DAH Ch 22

Yoonhae’s hands gripped Jungjoon’s forearms tightly. With their lips pressed together, they poured out moans. Moaning, they rubbed their lips and mingled their tongues. From bottom to top, they connected through the most sensitive sensations.

Jungjoon’s inner buttocks clenched Yoonhae’s penis fiercely. After just a short while of moving up and down, creating friction, Yoonhae’s penis erupted with another burst of semen. Soaking it deep within his inner walls, Jungjoon hugged Yoonhae and trembled. At the same time, Jungjoon’s own penis released the fruits of its climax.

Exhausted, Jungjoon collapsed onto Yoonhae’s body. Yoonhae, breathing heavily, sat up. Unsatisfied with two ejaculations, he clung to Jungjoon from behind.

Jungjoon, instantly aroused by kisses and caresses, welcomed it by pulling Yoonhae’s neck closer. Offering his body to ease Yoonhae’s entry from behind, he twisted his head to kiss him. As if urging him to press closer, to enter faster, he tugged at Yoonhae’s neck, spurring him on.

The bursting voice was unlike usual. Even his fevered breaths sounded foreign.

“Ah…, so good… Hyung…”

Yoonhae grabbed Jungjoon’s legs, spreading them to thrust his penis inside. Each time he pierced and pounded, crushing their flesh together, Jungjoon threw his head back in pleasure. His vision flashed and flickered, his scalp buzzed, and unbelievable ecstasy raced through his entire body.

Their bodies intertwined complexly, locking together at the deepest point. Inner walls and penis gripped, clawed, rubbed, and mashed against each other. It was beyond good, beyond pleasure. It transcended the sensations a human could feel as a human, becoming pure, uncontrollable joy itself.

“Ah…!!!”

He seized Jungjoon’s spread thighs and slammed his penis upward with force. Jungjoon, legs splayed wide, tilted his neck back and moaned. Even the strong grip on his thighs felt like a caress. The fingers pressing into his muscles and the unyielding strength were terrifyingly sensual.

“Guh…!!”

Yoonhae groaned, veins bulging in his neck, driving his hips faster.

“Ahh, ngh, guh…!!!”

He slammed his lower body into Jungjoon as if to break him. Soon, spent, he pulled Jungjoon into an embrace and pinned him completely beneath his body. Binding Jungjoon’s flattened form with both arms, he wriggled below, sliding his penis in and out a few more times.

“I love you… Seo Jungjoon…”

A confession and breath flooded his ear. Crushed under Yoonhae’s weight, Jungjoon couldn’t move. The tight embrace choked his breath. I love you… As Yoonhae’s voice sank in, his depths clenched hard. The illusion of surrendering his restrained body entirely transformed into a strange rapture.

Following the words “I love you,” he kept tightening below. Excited, Yoonhae began pressing down fiercely again. Crushed by his heavy frame and penis, Jungjoon moaned. Drooling onto the sheets, he reached climax amid the twisting ecstasy consuming his body.

“Hnngh…!!!”

Contracting sharply then relaxing, his whole body trembled violently. Yoonhae hugged the shuddering Jungjoon, turning him to kiss him.

“I love you…”

“Ha, ngh…”

“Only you, I love only you…”

Each time those words pierced his eardrums, heat bloomed inside. Drenched in euphoria, Jungjoon’s body spasmed intermittently.

Holding and caressing him, Yoonhae exhaled ragged breaths. And he kept confessing. That he loved only him, that he’d love only him forever.

Jungjoon jolted upright. He hurriedly scanned his surroundings. The sun still shone outside, and he was still on the bed. Beside him, Yoonhae slept soundly.

“…”

Everything flashed back like a burst of light. The unnecessary sex, the pleasure that made him forget it all. Even Yoonhae’s past story from before.

Overwhelmed by things too heavy to process, Jungjoon lost his bearings for a moment.

He recalled the moment he’d been too immersed in the act. Fully engrossed in sex with Yoonhae, he’d been consumed solely by feeling the other’s body, chasing the mutual stimulation. Too fixated on that pursuit, he hadn’t thought of anything else.

Recalling the intense yet tender climax brought a wave of nausea. His spine chilled as if doused in cold water. Why had he done that? Thinking about it now yielded no answers. He couldn’t discern where the acting began or ended.

“…”

Thankfully, Yoonhae still slept deeply beside him. Likely due to the sleeping pills mixed into the cold medicine. Staring quietly at his peaceful face, Jungjoon sighed and covered his eyes.

Not much time had passed, but an unexpected delay had occurred. With no telling when he’d wake, Jungjoon couldn’t stall any longer. Gathering his thoughts, urgency struck, and he slid off the bed. Without time to wash off the fluids trickling down his inner thighs, he grabbed clothes and started dressing.

Muffling his footsteps, he slipped out of the bedroom. Carefully traversing the hallway, he headed to Yoonhae’s room. Entering like an intruder, he went straight to the desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a wallet. Taking all the cash, he searched frantically for the car keys.

“…Haa…”

The keys weren’t in their usual spot. Looking around, opening every drawer—nothing. Growing anxious, he wondered if they were downstairs. Breathing shallowly, he left the room.

Passing through the hallway, he stopped at the room where Yoonhae slept. Suddenly drawn to check on him again, he stepped inside.

“…”

A face slept in utter tranquility. Seeing that innocent, unknowing childlike expression, Jungjoon felt strange. An uneasy guilt—like he was missing something vital and abandoning it—pressed heavily on his chest.

There was no reason for it, so he blamed hearing Yoonhae’s past story today. He bitterly resented Yoonhae for bringing it up now of all times.

Why had their fates entwined so cruelly? Why had he met Yoonhae, exchanging wounds and pain since those fragile days? He newly resented the heavens. But he knew all too well it was far too late to fix anything.

He felt no more emotions, only physical pain. Tormented by an upset stomach, Jungjoon rushed to the attached bathroom and vomited. After several retches, he emerged, relieved to see Yoonhae still sleeping peacefully.

“You’d know, Hyung—you abandoned me too.”

Recalling those words, Jungjoon shuddered as if burned and turned away. With hushed steps, he left the room, crossed the hallway, descended the stairs, and roamed the first floor in a daze.

Searching every likely spot for the car keys yielded nothing. The villa’s vastness overwhelmed him. If they were in Yoonhae’s clothes, finding them would be near impossible. Resigning himself, Jungjoon decided to abandon the car and leave on foot.

But what stopped him once more was the fish tank. Specifically, the second dead fish inside it.

“…”

Staring blankly, a sense of déjà vu hit him. He realized the remaining live one had died too. Then he remembered leaving the first corpse in the kitchen. With both dead, he couldn’t just walk past. Jungjoon retrieved the lonely floating body, gathered the earlier one too, and stepped outside.

In a corner of the garden, he hastily dug into the soil. Scraping soft earth to make a resting place, he buried them side by side. Turning to leave quickly, he noticed his dirtied hands. Like that day, his nails were caked with soil, and looking up, the sky was overcast, just like then.

He wondered if it’d rain, but thankfully, it hadn’t yet. Realizing he’d wasted time again on something trivial, Jungjoon hurriedly turned his steps. Without a car, he’d have to walk down. If he didn’t hurry, it might darken before he reached the bottom.

Descending the road, no one followed. It confirmed Yoonhae had truly sent every subordinate away. Glancing at the empty path behind, a twisted laugh burst out. Yoonhae’s naive trust in him was laughable; that pure, innocent affection was so horrific it drew a sob-like chuckle.

Did you think I could love you?

Jungjoon genuinely wanted to ask him.

Me?

Seo Jungjoon loving Lee Yoonhae?

Saying I love you?

Did you think that made sense?

He’d thought leaving the villa sneering would feel liberating. That it’d be more satisfying than any day. Yet he felt nothing.

Though it wasn’t raining, his face was soon drenched. His legs grew heavy. A vivid, swamp-like fatigue weighed him down as if he were floundering.

He wanted to escape this mountain fast. To get far from this wretched villa. His strides quickened, fueled by that urge.

And then it happened.

“Seo Jungjoon―!!!!”

A beast’s roar. A chilling bellow echoed from behind.

“Seo Jungjoon, stop right there―!!!!”

A colossal sound, as if the mountain would collapse, crashed over him.

Caught sooner than expected, his spine prickled, and his vision whitened. He’d been found. Exposed. Realizing his worst fear had come true, he forgot to breathe.

Nothing registered—no sight, no sound. Driven by one thought—to hide, to run—he bolted into the trackless woods.

Racing through towering, dense trees without looking back, he foresaw capture meant the end. Like a terrified prey, he thrashed through the undergrowth, driven by survival instinct alone.

“Stop there―!!!! Stop, you bastard―!!!!”

A terrifying shout pursued him. The more it rang, the more Jungjoon forgot to breathe, stretching his legs desperately. Dry leaves and branches he couldn’t dodge scratched his cheeks, but he kept running.

“Seo Jungjoon, you fucking bastard―!!!!”

The furious yells clung close behind.

“Stop!!! Stop, you son of a bitch!!!”

I’ll kill you―!!!! Curse-like screams reverberated through the mountain. His scalp tingled, dizziness blurring his sight. Harsh, ragged breaths pierced his eardrums like someone else’s.

He shouldn’t have had that last sex. No matter how tired, he shouldn’t have passed out. He should’ve left the dead fish alone, or put more sleeping pills in from the start. Regrets piled up, but such petty reflections were meaningless now.

“Aaaaaagh―!!!!!”

A monstrous howl rang out. An uncontainable outburst of rage. Its sheer force sent shivers down his spine. Aaaaaagh―!!!!! Repeated once more, Jungjoon stumbled, reflexively twisting his ankle.

“Guh…!!”

He nearly screamed but clamped his mouth shut. Unbearable pain shot through his twisted leg. Trying to drag it without checking, his face contorted. Even a slight tug sent excruciating agony from leg to spine.

Limping, Jungjoon barely stifled a scream. Gritting his teeth, he dragged his leg forward. But the sharp pain was no minor thing—each move brought crippling torment from his ankle. His ashen face dripped with sweat, cold beads soaking his back.

He knew he couldn’t move like this. Scanning frantically, he sought a hiding spot. Spotting a place shielded by a large tree and rock, he hobbled toward it quickly.

Thrashing through dense bushes, he forced his way in. Crawling flat on the leaf-strewn dirt, he endured the pain. Cold sweat poured like rain, blurring his vision as he peered through the foliage. Covering his hair with leaves and smearing mud on his face, he hid.

Soon, swift footsteps approached, and Yoonhae appeared. Jungjoon held his breath.

“Where are you…!!”

Snarling, he searched for Jungjoon. His eyes gleamed like a demon’s.

“Fuck, where’d you hide, you bastard!!!”

Was it animal instinct? Superhuman hearing? Or had he glimpsed Jungjoon’s back? He sensed Jungjoon was concealed nearby.

“Come out, fuck, come out, you rat bastard―!!!”

Veins bulged across his face and body as he roared. His bloodshot, inhuman eyes chilled the air. Roaming and raging for a while, he eventually vanished in the opposite direction. The sound of footsteps crushing bushes faded as he descended.

“…”

Exhausted and prone, Jungjoon couldn’t rise immediately. The injured spot throbbed, swelling rapidly. He doubted he could even stand.

What now? Panic flooded his mind with despair. Should he crawl? In this state, Yoonhae—frenzied and scouring everywhere—would spot him easily. He’d be as vulnerable as prey to a predator’s chase and attack.

In despair, Jungjoon steadied his ragged breaths. His desperate mind found no solutions. But he couldn’t delay further. Nightfall would make descent impossible, and lingering raised discovery odds.

Who knew what an enraged Yoonhae might do? He might’ve already called his men. If many joined, it’d be dire. They could bring not just people but trained dogs—real beasts. He’d once casually mentioned training tracking hounds.

“Haa…”

Each attempt to move jolted his ankle painfully. As he lay helpless, footsteps returned. Rustling neared, and Jungjoon froze.

“Come out―!!!! Come out now―!!!!”

Yoonhae appeared, spitting as he screamed.

“You bastard…!!! Are you human?! Are you human, you fucker!!! You’re not even human, you piece of shit, worse than a dog, you filthy mongrel…!!!”

Every syllable dripped with fury.

“Just get caught… You think I can’t find you?! You think I can’t catch a worm like you, you trash bastard!!! Finding a nothing bug like you is nothing, you idiot fucker!!!”

Nothing, you idiot― he added, laughing like a madman. But the laughter faded, replaced by bellowing demands to emerge. Losing reason to excitement, he flailed at the air, ready to crush anything in his grasp.

“…”

Jungjoon hadn’t noticed amid the chaos, but Yoonhae looked a mess. Clad only in a robe—the last state Jungjoon saw before leaving him in bed. The dirtied, gaping robe exposed his flesh. Though he wore underwear, it was hardly attire for outdoors.

His feet, unrecognizably filthy, came into view. Unbelievably, he wore no shoes. Running barefoot through this rugged mountain was sheer madness.

“Seo Jungjoon, come out while I’m asking nicely, come out!!!!”

His frenzied cries persisted.

“Come out―!!!!”

When shouting failed, he threatened.

“Don’t come out, and your son dies first―!!!!”

He’d grab him, bring him before Jungjoon’s eyes, twist his little neck, skin him alive, and toss him to dogs, he yelled.

“You think I won’t?! You think I can’t, you traitorous fucker?!! Huh??!!”

He raged like a possessed demon, vowing to kidnap and brutally kill Ian. His madness seemed capable of it. Witnessing his base nature laid bare, Jungjoon’s heart pounded wildly, thudding like fleeing footsteps.

When Jungjoon didn’t appear, Yoonhae’s eyes bulged. He’d give orders now—watch closely, he shouted. But he fumbled his pockets, looking around. Finding no phone, his unhinged outburst peaked.

“Aaaaagh―!!!!!”

He screamed as if his jaw would unhinge. Pounding a nearby tree with his fists, he tore at it with his fingers and bashed his head against it. The force shook the tree with monstrous strength.

Blood flowed from his fists and forehead, dripping to his chin, yet he kept harming himself. Jungjoon shut his eyes tight against the ceaseless self-destruction.

The relentless tantrum stopped only after more time passed. Leaning his forehead against the tree, Yoonhae snapped his head up as if coming to. Then, like a mountain beast, he agilely climbed back up. In a blink, he vanished—Jungjoon realized he’d gone for the phone left at the villa.

As silence fell, a revelatory voice whispered in his mind.

Now. If you’re escaping, it’s now or never.

“Guh…!”

Jungjoon barely rolled his prone body over. The shift alone sent pain crashing through his ankle. Biting his lip, his face paled with effort. Managing to sit up, sweat poured like rain.

“Haa…”

He had to get down somehow. Even a little distance from here. This was where Yoonhae last glimpsed his back, why he lingered.

Jungjoon bit his lower lip and painfully stepped forward. Despite minimizing weight on the injured ankle, pain surged. Each step twisted his face with sharp stabs.

How far had he limped? His heightened senses caught approaching sounds. Swift footsteps crunching dry brush. Yoonhae returned far faster than expected. Terror gripped Jungjoon as the presence closed in, and he scanned frantically.

Spotting a large rock beside a tree, he hid hastily. No time to tend his ankle gently. Collapsing behind it, excruciating pain flared. Clenching his teeth, he covered his mouth. Tears streamed unnoticed.

Moments after hiding, Yoonhae closed the distance entirely. He descended to where Jungjoon had just been, searching erratically. Jungjoon, concealed, turned his head to watch.

“Where are you…! Seo Jungjoon, you bastard…!”

Muttering anxiously, he scoured the area. Disoriented yet unable to leave, he suddenly began tearing through the bushes ahead. Rummaging spots he’d ignored before—including where Jungjoon had hidden—his actions jolted Jungjoon’s heart.

Yoonhae stared blankly at the spot Jungjoon had been. The flattened bushes suggested someone had lain there. He gazed long at it, then crouched, sniffing like a dog.

“Aaaaaagh―!!! Fuck―!!!!”

After the bizarre act, he screamed.

“You were here, you bastard―!!!!!”

Unsure who he cursed, he ripped and dug at whatever he could grab in his frenzy. Roaring, his eyes literally flipped with rage. Standing abruptly, he shouted forward, trembling like a drug addict.

“…”

It was chilling. Jungjoon’s insides burned as if he’d swallowed fire. Luckily, Yoonhae, blinded by fury, couldn’t see clearly. Too enraged at missing Jungjoon right under his nose, he didn’t consider other possibilities. He likely hadn’t checked around earlier either.

As his unhinged wails continued, Jungjoon battled pain. Suddenly, Yoonhae stood as if realizing something, then scrambled down the mountain. Only then did Jungjoon stretch his leg, groaning.

“Guhhh…!!”

Yoonhae likely thought Jungjoon had gone far. He should move now, but his overtaxed leg was worse than before. Swollen severely, it screamed with pain. Even slight movement brought tears and moans from his throat.

As Jungjoon groaned and gave up, Yoonhae returned, racing back in a frenzy. Circling the spot Jungjoon had hidden, he writhed in torment. Staring at it repeatedly, stomping, he finally erupted in frustration. Missing Jungjoon right in front of him seemed to drive him mad.

“Aaaaaaaagh―――!!!!!”

Clutching his head, he bellowed. Hurling every curse and insult at Jungjoon, his monstrous voice devolved into wordless shrieks.

He screamed as if his veins would burst. His parched, cracking voice stretched endlessly outward. Neither human nor beast, adult nor child—an eerie wail persisted.

The sound tortured Jungjoon, who covered his ears. Hunching his back, he squeezed his eyes shut, using feeble gestures to escape this living hell.

Time blurred. Jungjoon slowly lowered his hands from his ears. The silence was uncanny. A sweat trickle down his spine raised goosebumps. Turning quietly, Yoonhae—visible moments ago—was gone.

“Hyung…”

A nearby voice made his heart drop.

“…Hyung-ah…”

It came from a few steps beyond the rock.

“H-Hyung-ah…”

Muttering softly, Yoonhae descended. As he brushed past the rock into view, Jungjoon clamped his mouth, swallowing his breath.

“…”

Yoonhae stopped. Standing still, he stared entranced at one spot. His inexplicable behavior froze Jungjoon too. Hic― hic, with gasping breaths, he collapsed soon after.

At first, Jungjoon thought it was hyperventilation. But hunched over, trembling, he was laughing. A creaking giggle spasmed in his throat before bursting out. Collapsing to the ground, he roared with manic laughter, pounding the earth.

It was a violently unsettling laugh. And it didn’t take long to shift into equally violent sobs.

He wailed and screamed. Tears fell as he wept fiercely. Like a parent had died. Like a nation was lost. Or like a beast dying in agony.

After crying his heart out, he fell silent, exhausted. As he wept, Jungjoon, sweating coldly in pain, listened quietly.

“…”

Motionless until then, Yoonhae lifted his head. In an odd crouch, he scanned around. Startled at being spotted, Jungjoon ducked behind the rock. Peeking cautiously after a moment, he saw Yoonhae.

His expression was unlike anything before. Eyes wide with childish terror, he looked around. Stammering “Uh-uh-uh-uh,” he crawled, making strange noises.

“I-I, w-wrong, I did wrong…”

A sinister chill brushed Jungjoon’s nape.

“W-wrong, I did wrong… F-f-f, forgive, forgive me…”

Glancing around the tree-ringed woods, he was petrified.

“S-s-scary… H-here, s-s-scary…!”

Tears welled in his eyes instantly.

“H-Hyung…! J-Jungjoon Hyung…! I-I’m scared…!”

He cried, calling for Jungjoon.

“H-Hyung-ah…! W-w-where are you…!”

The sound of his name drove Jungjoon mad.

“D-d-don’t, don’t leave me…! D-d-don’t go without me…!”

He was no longer a thirty-year-old man.

“H-Hyung, I’ll l-l-listen good…! I-I-I won’t hit, won’t hit kids…! I-I won’t, won’t cry…!”

A child unable to fix his stutter. Just a child spouting futile promises.

“H-Hyung-ah, Hyung-ah…!”

He called for Jungjoon, not his mother. Crawling, hunched, he sought only Jungjoon. His massive frame shrank pitifully.

Unable to watch, Jungjoon shut his eyes tight. His throat and esophagus burned. Even still, bile rose. Swallowing silent groans, he covered his face.

Worse than hell. He’d witnessed a man’s mental age regress in real-time. A consequence entirely of his own making.

Had he resolved on revenge back then, would he have felt relieved? Joyful at finally breaking Yoonhae? Now, Jungjoon felt no joy—only regret. He should’ve died alone. Ended himself before it came to this.

The misery he’d wrought was horrific. Yet amid shock and resignation, he only shed tears. There was nothing he could do but look away.

Pain spread from his ankle through his body, excruciating. But he welcomed it. He wished it’d hurt so much he couldn’t think. To lose himself in agony and let go. Sleeping for days until his breath stopped seemed fine too.

Tears rolled down his closed eyes. From beyond the rock, the sound persisted—a child’s cry still searching for him.

…I’m sorry.

Jungjoon offered an inaudible apology. To Yoonhae, doomed to wander for him forever. To his late wife and Ian, whom he couldn’t protect. Even to a world he’d found uniquely cruel.

He hoped this was the end. Thinking so, Jungjoon slowly slumped. In pain, his eyelids fluttered briefly in a final motion.

“What does Dad look like?”

Each time he asked, Mom answered indifferently.

“He looks just like you.”

The reply never varied, not a syllable.

“Just like me?”

So his follow-up was always the same too.

“Yeah. So stop asking, okay?”

She’d chide, ending with a smile. Her eyes crinkling as if about to cry. Forcing her slack mouth upward.

Seeing that face, Jungjoon shut his mouth. It looked like she was mad. But looking back now, it wasn’t anger. The face of an adult worn beyond weariness, exhausted beyond exhaustion. A face of ennui and helplessness a child couldn’t fathom.

Mom was always busy, and Jungjoon grew used to waiting alone at home. Lying blankly, watching TV, time passed quickly. When bored or hungry, he’d peel open chocolate bars one by one. Some days, even after twenty, she wouldn’t return, and he’d fall asleep clutching her coat.

Her return home was the happiest time. Sometimes, she’d bring dakgangjeong. Waking to eat it, nothing tasted better. Though her embrace topped even that.

But sometimes, she snapped at him.

“Do you want to embarrass me on purpose? Why do you draw Dad’s face like that! What will your friends and teachers think of us?”

Jungjoon couldn’t forget that day.

“Don’t ever draw this again, got it?!”

The day she tore up his drawing. A family picture from kindergarten—Mom, me, and Dad.

Except Dad’s face was just a blacked-out human shape. He learned later the teacher had voiced concern over it.

After that, Jungjoon stopped drawing family pictures. He didn’t talk about family to anyone. Before he could, Mom’s busyness sent him to his rural grandma’s.

Grandma didn’t fuss over him. Not especially kind, not especially harsh. Like a dog in the yard—fed on time, kept alive.

Jungjoon feared the countryside. Mountains and fields everywhere. Big birds soared, and huge dogs barked like they’d eat him in the alleys. Nights turned the village pitch black. He cried for Mom nightly. Grandma would stroke his forehead, murmuring, “Baby, sleep.”

Months later, Mom came. After tearful clinging, Jungjoon returned with her to their old town. Not their old house, but a leaky basement rental.

From then, Mom rarely came home. Jungjoon stopped kindergarten, staying home alone. Meals were mostly plain rice and seaweed. Still hungry after, he’d crave the dakgangjeong she’d buy.

“Mom, I want dakgangjeong. Buy me some.”

When he finally spoke after holding back, she made that face. The odd smile, eyes crumpling like she’d cry.

“…I’ll buy it later.”

He’d clamp his mouth shut and nod. Pushing more might send him back to Grandma’s.

That winter at seven was bitterly cold. Sniffling in the frigid room, Jungjoon waited. The TV world, unlike reality, glowed with Christmas cheer. Watching a Santa movie, he wondered. Why didn’t Santa bring him gifts?

Then it hit him. He’d never made a wish. Or maybe he wasn’t a good kid. A song said crying kids got none. Thinking of it, he didn’t qualify—he’d sobbed endlessly in the countryside.

Still, he decided to pray once.

“Please let Mom come home every day.”

And one more.

“Let me meet Dad.”

He prayed fervently until Christmas.

Nothing happened, and the 26th arrived. Mom returned with a small cake.

That erased it all for Jungjoon. Wishes or not, her return sufficed.

“Jungjoon, you said you wanted dakgangjeong, right?”

“Yeah!”

“Wanna go eat with Mom?”

He nodded eagerly. Like his prayers were answered, he was overjoyed.

That day was strange and special. They went to the market, ate tteokbokki and dakgangjeong. Mom bought him new clothes and toys—a robot and a cute dog plush. Even on birthdays, he’d never gotten such things.

It was an overwhelming happiness. But as the sun began to set and they headed home, an odd feeling crept in. The taxi they took to get back veered into an unfamiliar neighborhood, down unfamiliar streets.

The car stopped in front of a two-story building that looked like a house. Mom got out and immediately took Jungjoon’s hand, leading him inside. Jungjoon, clueless, followed along, clutching the plush toy bought that day.

There, he met a stern-looking man. People he didn’t know—from kids his age to much older boys—were gathered in abundance. A dimly lit hallway, rooms faintly visible through window cracks. Everything in sight felt strange and unfamiliar.

While Jungjoon hesitated, Mom exchanged brief words with the man. When their talk ended, she knelt down to meet Jungjoon’s eyes.

“Jungjoon-ah. Can you stay here nicely until Mom comes to get you?”

“…”

“Listen to the director and get along with the other kids, okay?”

Mom held Jungjoon’s hand tightly and brushed his hair back.

Sensing something, tears welled up in Jungjoon’s eyes.

“Mom, don’t go…”

He shook his head, pleading.

“After ten nights, Mom will come. Okay? Can Jungjoon count ten nights?”

Jungjoon shook his head fiercely. He didn’t want to be left alone here.

“Mom, I don’t like it here…”

It felt worse than Grandma’s rural house.

“Mom, I want to go to Grandma’s, Grandma’s house…!”

Instinct told him that lonely, scary countryside was far safer.

“No, Jungjoon-ah. You have to wait here. Jungjoon’s a good boy, right? You need to listen to Mom.”

“No, nooo…!”

“Shh! Don’t cry. If you throw a tantrum, Mom won’t come back.”

Mom tried to let go of his hand.

“No, Mom, please…! I’ll listen from now on, I’ll be good and do what you say…!”

Tears drenched Jungjoon’s face as he begged. The plush toy slipped to the floor.

“I won’t ask for dakgangjeong…! I won’t say I want to go to kindergarten…! I’ll stay home alone just fine. I won’t tell you to come home early…!”

Mom pried Jungjoon’s hands off with a troubled look. But Jungjoon clung to anything he could. With all his strength, he gripped her clothes. Letting go felt like death. The moment he did, everything would end.

“Let go, Jungjoon-ah, let go!”

Her harsh tug hurt. Wailing loudly, other kids came out to watch. Flustered, Mom dragged Jungjoon outside. He followed to the yard with desperate strength, sobbing and pleading.

“Mom, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…! Don’t leave me…!”

Finally, the director pried him off, separating him from Mom. She turned away, tears in her eyes, and hurried out the gate.

“No, Mom, Mom—! Momma—!!”

Thrashing and crying, he broke free from the director’s grasp. Darting past the gate, Jungjoon ran frantically in the direction she’d gone.

He raced downhill to the main road without stopping. Reaching a crowded area, he searched desperately for her back. But no matter how he looked, she was nowhere.

“Mom—!! Mom—!!!”

He screamed until his throat tore. Passersby stared oddly. Jungjoon checked every figure, running in all directions. He grabbed strangers, asking through tears if they’d seen his mom. They shook their heads, uneasy.

A mart, a piano academy, a bank, a hardware store—familiar signs felt alien. Like he’d landed in a foreign land, everything terrified him.

Where was this place? Where had Mom gone? Why had she abandoned him? At the end of his questions, only longing for her remained.

Jungjoon tilted his head back and wailed on the roadside.

It was all a child, abandoned to the world, could do.

With a gasp, he inhaled and opened his eyes.

“…”

In the stillness, the first sound was crickets. Then excruciating pain jolted him back to reality.

The surroundings had darkened unnoticed. He couldn’t tell when he’d fallen asleep or how long he’d been out.

Perhaps from staying in one position too long, his chilled body had stiffened. Jungjoon pressed his palms to the ground, barely stirring. A low groan slipped through his parched throat.

“Ha…”

Memories he’d consciously buried resurfaced. The vivid dream—rare after so long—left his mind in chaos. His face was already wet, just like back then.

Mom.

Mom.

Mom.

A title he hadn’t recalled in ages.

“…Mom…”

Voicing it, tears burst forth.

“Mom…”

Long-suppressed longing erupted. His heart, festered beyond repair, oozed like pus.

He sobbed, choking. Hating Mom. Resenting her endlessly. Yet crying because he missed her insanely despite it all.

He wanted to see her again, if only for a moment. But he’d never searched. Even when he could, he’d kept turning away.

She’d said ten nights, then she’d come. But she never did. Not once, until Jungjoon left that orphanage.

An abandoned child couldn’t seek their mother. A mother who didn’t want her child couldn’t be longed for by that child. So he’d had to live as if he’d never had a mother.

Didn’t you miss me even a little? Was I so awful that you never visited once in all those years?

Your son, who grew up so well alone… don’t you ever want to see me?

Tears wouldn’t stop. He cried out all the pent-up sorrow. Wailing, he dragged every ounce of grief from within.

When had he last cried this hard? After sobbing until exhausted, the tears ceased naturally.

His drained body produced no more moisture. Yet his long-knotted chest felt light for the first time, unburdened. Longing, the urge to end his life, all blocked emotions—they’d dissolved somewhere.

Jungjoon wiped his wrecked face with his sleeve. Drying his tears, he cautiously moved his legs. Stiff, they barely budged, but he massaged them until he could kneel. His twisted leg remained swollen, though the pain seemed less.

Groaning, he gripped the rock and stood. In the midnight forest, lit only by moonlight, he breathed cold air and hobbled out of his hiding spot.

In deep darkness, his gaze fixed on one spot. Under a large pine, a white shape lay crumpled, drawing his eyes.

“…”

Limping, Jungjoon moved toward it. Drawn as if entranced to Yoonhae, collapsed in his robe. Up close, Yoonhae’s closed eyes made him look like a corpse—or perhaps he’d fainted.

Jungjoon knelt, enduring sharp pain. Tilting his head, he gazed at Yoonhae’s pale, sleeping face. Staring quietly, an unbearable strange feeling swelled. His nose stung, his eyes throbbed, and he wanted to sob messily again.

“Yoonhae-ya…”

He shook Yoonhae’s limp body to wake him.

“Yoonhae-ya, wake up… Wake up, let’s go home…”

The raspy, dry words weren’t nonsense or lies—they were sincere. He wanted to return. He no longer wanted to flee. Not from Yoonhae.

“Wake up…”

He hugged the cold body, slipping off his thin jacket to cover him.

“Wake up, Yoonhae-ya… Hyung’s here…”

Uncontrollable hot tears fell. Pity for the man in his arms, the harsh toll of life’s sins—tears wouldn’t stop.

“…Ngh…”

A cracked groan made Jungjoon look up sharply. Yoonhae’s face, resting on his lap, slowly opened its eyes.

“…”

Yoonhae struggled to look up at Jungjoon. At first, he stared blankly, then strength returned as awareness hit. Bolting up, he grabbed Jungjoon, pulling him into a fierce embrace. Stammering incoherently, he unleashed a howl-like sob.

It was too beastly for a human cry, too mournful for an animal’s.

Yoonhae wailed as if retching. Screaming, he crushed Jungjoon against him. Amid near-vomiting sobs, his words came through—resenting Jungjoon for abandoning him and fleeing.

“Sorry… I’m sorry, Hyung’s sorry… I was wrong…”

Apologizing, Yoonhae clung like an enraged beast, roaring. His words weren’t all clear, but his resentment pierced as vividly as the blood on his forehead.

“Hyung won’t go anywhere now… Nowhere…”

Locked in a suffocating grip, Jungjoon repeated it despite aching all over. That he was sorry, that he’d never leave again.

After long embraces and sobs, Yoonhae regained a shred of reason. Tears like chicken droppings fell as he licked Jungjoon’s face tenderly. Like a dog, he lapped up Jungjoon’s tears, soothing his throat and calming down with labored breaths.

“Let’s go home…”

Jungjoon patted his broad back, coaxing. At that, Yoonhae stood abruptly, noticing Jungjoon couldn’t rise due to his injured leg. He lifted Jungjoon too.

In an instant, Jungjoon was carried back to the villa in Yoonhae’s arms. In the dark forest, Yoonhae strode boldly despite holding him, unhindered by mere moonlight.

Ascending, he muttered ceaselessly. Stammering, he repeated like a mantra that he’d never let go. Occasional hot tears from his earlier wailing dripped from his chin onto Jungjoon’s face. His hands gripped Jungjoon’s arms and legs so tightly they might burst.

Back at the villa, Jungjoon was utterly spent. Having left for just half a day felt unbelievable—like he’d wandered the mountains for years.

He craved a hot bath. As if his wish was heard, Yoonhae carried him straight to the bathroom. Filling the tub with warm water, they sank in together, bodies overlapping. In water that washed away filth, they rested, pressed close, breathing anew. That alone revived him.

Standing under the showerhead, they relieved pent-up urine. Pressing their penises together, they aimed streams at each other’s bodies. Sighing under hot water, they let impurities flow away. Supporting each other’s weary forms, they exchanged damp breaths in the steam.

Emerging, ravenous hunger hit, so they ate. Setting out whatever was on the table, they devoured it like animals. Afterward, revitalized, Yoonhae burst into tears again. Bloodshot eyes glared at Jungjoon before he pulled him close, screaming and crying.

Standing Jungjoon before the fridge, he yanked off his pants. From behind, he thrust in his penis, moving roughly in anger until he ejaculated. Though his injured ankle ached, Jungjoon gritted his teeth and endured. Finally, Yoonhae sat him down and sucked Jungjoon’s penis, swallowing his semen. Only then did he soften, as if drinking it quenched his rage, wiping dry eyes calmly.

“Don’t go, don’t go…”

He stammered.

“…I won’t. Never.”

Jungjoon stroked him, replying.

“Don’t d-d-deceive me… N-no, no lies…”

“…No lies. I won’t deceive you ever again.”

“N-no, amusement p-park… N-not going… T-till I die, n-not going…!”

He sobbed, and Jungjoon, eyes heating with shared sorrow, apologized.

“Sorry. Hyung was wrong.”

Crying, Yoonhae kissed Jungjoon roughly, ignorantly. Holding Jungjoon’s head with both hands, he rubbed lips without finesse, grinding and sucking painfully.

Crushing fatigue overwhelmed him. Even in bed, Yoonhae couldn’t sleep easily. Fearing Jungjoon’s escape, he groaned nervously, tangling and tugging at him in a frenzy.

Jungjoon gently held the nightmare-plagued man. Stripping him, he soothed his lower parts, embracing his core tenderly. Even near collapse, Yoonhae clung, moaning anxiously.

To ease him, Jungjoon tied their wrists with a necktie. Knotting it firmly, some of Yoonhae’s unease faded. Tears fell as he hung onto Jungjoon, who didn’t resist. Embracing him deep within again, he quelled his fears.

This act soothed not just Yoonhae’s anxiety but Jungjoon’s too. Their linked pain, filling his empty gut, calmed him.

Twisting together, they fell asleep. That sleep drew Jungjoon into a deep slumber. For the first time in years, he sank into dreamless rest.

Waking from a surprisingly brief deep sleep, sunlight peeked through the curtains. The necktie binding their arms had loosened slightly.

“…”

Jungjoon gazed at Yoonhae, sleeping soundly in a sprawled pose. His face, haggard in half a day, had thankfully recovered somewhat. Jungjoon traced his fingers over Yoonhae’s scars, then the rough stubble on his chin. Oddly engrossed in this trivial play, he fiddled for a while before sheepishly stopping.

He carefully untied the necktie from one wrist, mindful not to wake him. Thankfully, Yoonhae stayed asleep as he worked. Tempted to wake him but reluctant seeing him rest, Jungjoon left him be.

His parched throat begged for water; his empty stomach growled. Before heading to the kitchen, Jungjoon found paper and left a note—precaution against Yoonhae panicking if he woke to find him gone.

With cautious steps, he crossed the hallway. Halfway down the stairs, he froze in shock.

“…Uh…”

Someone stood in the first-floor hallway.

“…”

The short-haired man’s face was familiar. After a brief moment of thought, it clicked. One of Yoonhae’s subordinates—seen recently, barging in with a report.

“What…”

How had he entered silently? Had Yoonhae sent him? Belatedly, Jungjoon wondered if Yoonhae had summoned his men then. But if so, why hadn’t anyone come yesterday? It didn’t add up.

“Is the boss upstairs?”

The man’s voice cut through Jungjoon’s tangled thoughts.

“…Yes.”

Jungjoon answered after a short silence. Hearing it, the man ascended the stairs without hesitation.

“Hey…!”

Jungjoon called after him as he brushed past.

“Don’t wake Yoonhae…”

The man’s eyebrows twitched slightly at the plea.

“…He’s sick and sleeping now. If it’s okay, maybe come back later…”

Explaining indirectly, Jungjoon saw no change in the man’s expression.

“It’s urgent… I’ll just relay it briefly and leave.”

He stated his purpose dryly, treating Jungjoon like an outsider.

“…”

With a curt bow, the man turned and climbed. Watching him go, Jungjoon soon turned away too,无奈.

In the kitchen, he forgot his intent and stood blankly. Snapping out of it, he gathered water, juice, and snacks on a tray, planning to eat with Yoonhae upstairs.

Ascending, loud footsteps thudded down. Looking up, he saw the subordinate descending quickly.

“…Leaving already…?”

The man brushed past Jungjoon, glancing briefly at him before heading to the back door.

A loud bang echoed as it shut.

“…”

The situation passed in a blur. Baffled by the man’s actions, Jungjoon frowned briefly. Glancing at the back door, he looked away.

An odd feeling lingered. The man’s fleeting expression stuck vividly in his mind—inexplicably strange. Unlike the dilated pupils of excitement, it differed subtly from when he’d ascended too.

Hadn’t he seemed unusually tense…?

Realizing it late, goosebumps prickled his neck. A chilling premonition slithered down his spine. Dropping the tray, Jungjoon raced upstairs, breathless, down the hall.

He reached the room where Yoonhae slept.

“…H-Hyung…”

A strangled voice, like someone was choking him. Yoonhae struggled to sit up, staring at Jungjoon.

“…N-no…, no…”

Blood drained from Jungjoon’s body. Legs failing, he staggered to the bed.

“H-Hyung…”

Blood was everywhere his eyes landed. White bedding turned dark red. Spotting the source—Yoonhae’s left abdomen, hands pressed against it—Jungjoon instinctively covered them with his own. His hands quickly stained red.

“H-Hyung… I-it, it h-hurts…”

Tears surged from Jungjoon’s eyes. Paralyzed by terror, he couldn’t breathe.

“It’s o-okay, you… you’re okay, Lee Yoonhae… you won’t die…!”

Snapping back, he thought of an ambulance. Turning, his wrist was seized.

“D-don’t go…”

“…”

“D-don’t leave me…”

Jungjoon felt insane. Even now, abandonment was his greatest fear.

“I’m not leaving, idiot…! I’m trying to save you, to save you…! I’ll save you, so wait, please…”

Lowering his head, Jungjoon kissed him. Only then did the grip loosen, and he turned to find Yoonhae’s phone. His trembling hands barely punched three digits. Connected, he didn’t know what he said—just begged for help, for someone to come now.

Grabbing a clean towel, he pressed it to Yoonhae’s abdomen. Blood soaked through instantly. The dire wound choked him with fear.

He never dreamed he’d feel this again. Hearing of his wife’s accident, rushing to her, her death pronouncement—his world had already ended once.

“Please… just live… just stay alive…”

Yoonhae’s eyes slowly closed, groans escaping.

“I… always w-wanted to die… in H-Hyung’s arms…”

In this crisis, he confessed an incomprehensible obsession. His dry lips held no color.

“If you die, I won’t forgive you… I’ll never forgive you…”

Repeating it, Jungjoon wept endlessly.

“I’ll marry you… I’ll give you everything you want… okay? Please…”

Yoonhae’s lips curved slightly. Even now, he smiled.

“…Hyung…”

His voice dropped lower.

“Hyung…”

The moment his face relaxed, his eyes shut.

⟡˖ ࣪

Memories of reaching the hospital were fragmented. Too much blood lost. Begging the vivid red staining everything to stop. Breathing into his fading lips was the last he recalled.

Coming to, he sat in the hospital hallway. Only dried blood marked his hands.

Jungjoon blankly lifted his head to the operating room where Yoonhae had gone.

“…”

He’d lost too much blood.

Too much… blood.

That thought looped in his mind. Crimson sheets, a pale face. Colorless lips, faint breaths.

If something goes wrong…

He forcibly cut off the negativity. But that makeshift shield soon hit its limit. Mid-surgery, medical staff emerged abruptly.

A transfusion was needed. Signing the consent form in a daze, his legs gave out. Collapsing, he stared at the operating room, soulless.

Staring at the sealed doors, a bad déjà vu struck. Trapped in despair’s wheel, spinning. He foresaw an agonizingly long, uncertain wait ahead.

Walls seemed to close in, space warping dizzily. Headaches, nausea, unbearable anxiety—he shot up to shake it off. With nothing to do, he rubbed his face frantically, as if to crush it.

“It’ll be fine… It can’t go wrong…”

He repeated it to himself. To convince himself this fear was baseless, to steady his heart.

Lee Yoonhae wouldn’t die so easily. Such a hollow death didn’t suit him. Jungjoon knew better than anyone his tenacity, his fierce obsession and desire.

He was certain. Yoonhae wouldn’t leave him alone. Even if he stopped breathing briefly, he’d claw back from death’s threshold.

“Haa…”

His blocked breath burst free.

“…No one will ever love someone like you forever…”

“You’ll die more painfully than anyone…”

“Truly… I hope you’re more miserable than anyone.”

In a lapse, old memories surfaced. His voice cursing Yoonhae’s end. Jungjoon grimaced and bowed his head.

“Haa…”

It was his curse. A heartfelt malediction against Yoonhae.

“Haaa…”

Chest pain stabbed, breath faltering. Oxygen seemed scarce. Pounding his chest, he followed instinct, fleeing the hallway.

His limping steps quickened, and reaching the exit, he threw himself out. Gulping air into his lungs the moment he crossed the threshold.

“Hic…”

Chest heaving, he tilted his head back. Sucking air through a narrowed throat, he staggered forward, gasping. Stumbling, he veered from the busy entrance to a quiet spot, hiding.

Leaning against a wall, Jungjoon slid down. Crouching, he clutched his tight chest. Bloodshot eyes streamed endless tears. His drooping head tilted, tears tracing diagonals.

Why did I leave?

Why did I let that man go up?

Regret drove him mad. Knowing it was irreversible, ruminating felt like self-harm. In that persistent loop, he sank into absurd delusions. Stopping the subordinate hiding a knife. Rushing to block him before he stabbed Yoonhae. All desperate wishes, mirages in his mind.

Staring blankly midair, a hand touched Jungjoon’s shoulder.

“You okay, young man? Are you hurt?”

The voice snapped him back. Startled, he turned. Wide-eyed, he looked up, puzzled. Where am I? The thought hit—so immersed in vivid fantasy.

“…I’m fine…, fine.”

Wiping his wet face, Jungjoon stood. Stumbling like a drunk, a concerned “Oh my” came from behind. A hand reached to steady him, but he regained balance and bowed to the watching elder before turning.

He headed back to wait near Yoonhae’s operating room. But his steps faltered at the entrance. The hospital door alone churned his stomach, distorting the ground in his mind.

Muttering to himself, unfocused, Jungjoon spoke.

“…Money… I need to get money…”

Repeating it like an excuse, he turned sharply.

Leaving the hospital, he resolved to return to the villa. To fetch Yoonhae’s wallet and essentials for his stay—thoughts flooded his head.

Rushing to the hospital left him with only Yoonhae’s phone. Hailing a taxi with difficulty, he explained and promised extra pay upon arrival.

The mountain he’d fled so desperately, he was returning to mere hours later. The distance that felt eternal in the ambulance passed quickly as he stared blankly out the window, soon entering the woods.

At the villa, Jungjoon retrieved Yoonhae’s wallet. Having taken all the cash to escape, he paid the fare—over double the norm—with Yoonhae’s card, bowing to the driver wordlessly.

As the taxi left, Jungjoon stood alone in the vast villa grounds. Despite spring’s vitality, the sprawling, empty estate felt desolate.

Entering forlornly, he climbed to the second floor without delay. Heavy steps led him down the hall to the room where Yoonhae was stabbed. Standing at the blood-soaked entrance, he gazed at the chilling scene—red stains that froze his fingertips just by looking. Stepping in slowly, he stared at the surreal blood marking the bed, sheets, and beyond.

Gathering towels, blankets—all bloodied—he carried them downstairs. Stuffing them into the washer out of sight, he started it. Watching it spin blankly, he splashed cold water on his face at the sink to wake up, then stepped outside.

Spotting unwashed dishes in the kitchen, he began cleaning. Scrubbing the sink spotless, he returned to the second-floor room mechanically, dazed. Realizing it was still dirty, he started wiping every blood drop with a rag.

Immersed in cleaning like work, he thought of nothing. Focused solely on sweeping, wiping, organizing. He felt he could clean the entire villa this way.

Finishing each room, sweat poured like rain. After intense labor, the next task hit him—preparing Yoonhae’s hospital essentials.

Unsure what to pack, he grabbed whatever caught his eye. From the bathroom, he took towels and hygiene items. After daily necessities, he pulled clothes and a blanket from the wardrobe.

Taking a laptop and charger from the desk, he scanned for more. A leather diary caught his eye. Drawn to it, he picked it up. Examining the hefty notebook, he opened it cautiously.

“…”

Its plain interior matched its rugged cover. The front was a calendar, the back a notepad. The monthly schedule was blank. Thinking it new, he flipped to the bookmark and found scribbles.

Staring at the words in the middle, he recognized them—movie titles he’d once mentioned to Yoonhae.

Turning the page, a list appeared.

Dancing

Making a snowman

Buying and eating bungeoppang

Going to see the sunrise

Going to a baseball stadium, soccer stadium, ski resort

Going to a concert, a musical

Getting matching rings

Wearing couple outfits

Getting married

Only the first item, “Dancing,” had a line struck through it; the rest remained untouched.

“…”

Jungjoon stared at the list intently, over and over. What was this? Gazing at the words, he realized. This was undoubtedly a list of things Yoonhae had “never done.” And the one who’d prompted him to make this list was none other than Jungjoon himself.

“Besides dancing… anything else you haven’t tried?”

“Make a list. Things you’ve never done. We’ll do them together, one by one.”

He hadn’t imagined Yoonhae would take such careless, offhand words so literally.

With a newfound sense of wonder, Jungjoon examined the list again, item by item. The more he read, the stranger he felt—not because of the list itself, but because the things Yoonhae had written were so trivial.

It felt less like the ambitions of a man in his thirties and more like the wishlist of a teenage boy. What kind of life had excluded such small, insignificant joys? The thought left Jungjoon quietly stunned.

“Making a snowman, buying and eating bungeoppang, going to see the sunrise…”

Jungjoon read the list aloud, one by one. He repeated it from start to finish twice more before closing the notebook. Then, silently, he tucked it into his bag.

Just before leaving the room, he unplugged his phone from the charger. It was his own, found deep in a drawer. Holding it after so long felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else. He powered it on, but there were no significant messages. With no one to regularly contact or any affiliations, that was only natural.

“Phew…”

Descending to the first floor, Jungjoon sank onto the sofa with a sigh. He’d intended to head straight for the door, but his condition plummeted suddenly. Was it delayed motion sickness? His stomach churned as if he’d eaten something bad. His temples throbbed, and he felt like he might vomit any second.

Setting his bag down, he paced the living room restlessly. Anxiously moving back and forth, he rubbed his cold hands. His mouth went dry, his limbs tingled—symptoms eerily akin to extreme tension. An unidentifiable rigidity and discomfort made him feel like he was losing his mind.

Finally, he rushed to the bathroom, retching a couple of times. Even after vomiting, Jungjoon circled the living room, unable to break free from the same spot. Like a wind-up doll, he spun in place while, beyond the full-length windows, the sky darkened as the sun set.

It was time to return to the hospital. Yet instead of heading out, he lingered in the villa, letting time slip by aimlessly. Pathetically, all he could do was pace in circles.

“…”

Watching the sun sink beyond the ridge, staining the sky blood-red, he realized it was now truly too late. Seeing it descend drained the strength from his limbs for no reason. The sunset, too red and too forlorn, couldn’t shake off a tragic premonition.

As he stared, entranced, a sense of déjà vu gradually overtook him. A childhood memory, long buried, resurfaced with startling clarity. Playing with Yoonhae on the way home, the sunset he’d seen from the orphanage hill had been this vast, this red.

“M-me, I l-like H-Hyung.”

Stammering his usual confession, Yoonhae had boldly asked,

“D-do you k-know why?”

Jungjoon hadn’t been curious. So, holding Yoonhae’s hand, he’d walked on in silence.

“B-because you’re p-pretty.”

“K-kind… and p-pretty, s-so H-Hyung’s my f-favorite.”

Jungjoon recalled his response.

“Then what if I’m not kind or pretty?”

He remembered finding Yoonhae’s serious face amusing.

“E-even s-so… I’d l-like you.”

“E-even if I’m b-bad or u-ugly… H-Hyung-ah… Jungjoon H-Hyung-ah’s the b-best in the w-world to me.”

Had he felt exasperated by that? Or…

Had he secretly felt relieved?

Bzzzzz—a harsh vibration jolted him, sending a shiver down his spine. Startled, he turned toward the sound. Soon, he realized his phone was ringing inside his bag.

Limping on his injured leg, he rummaged through it. The buzzing phone was his own.

“…”

An unknown number flashed on the screen. Seeing the area code, his heart pounded, pumping wildly. A sensation like his insides were melting followed. He instinctively knew it was the hospital. He recalled absently writing his number in the guardian section.

“Please…”

Jungjoon turned his head, battling rising nausea and the urge to collapse.

“Please… God… please…”

In desperation, he called out to a god he only sought unconsciously in dire moments. Gritting his teeth, he fought the terror threatening to crush him.

Please… please… Clutching the phone, Jungjoon sank to his knees. Holding his forehead—as if to brace against overwhelming despair and a splitting headache—he stared at the screen with a face on the brink of breaking, then collapsed forward.

It was a pain he’d never felt before. A burning agony, as if every blood vessel were aflame. Unknowingly, he repeated pleas—prayers or begging, he couldn’t tell—inside his mouth.

“Please… please…”

Just this once…

“Just this once, save him, please…”

Perhaps a supreme being watched from the heavens. Clinging to that slim chance, he begged any transcendent force that could help. With no pride or defiance left, he prostrated himself, abandoning everything to plead.

If only they’d save him this once. If they did, Jungjoon resolved to live the rest of his life no longer as his own.

He no longer cared if he gave his remaining years to the one who’d craved them so desperately.

“Hnngh…”

Amid pained gasps, the call disconnected once. When it buzzed again moments later, Jungjoon lifted his head and straightened. Through tear-blurred vision, he glared at the distorted screen, pressing the answer button with trembling hands.

The wait to bring the phone to his ear felt impossibly long.

“…Yes.”

—This is the hospital. Are you Lee Yoonhae’s guardian?

The voice pierced his eardrums, resonating through his skull.

Like a prisoner awaiting a death sentence, Jungjoon held his breath and answered.

“…Yes.”

At the news that followed, he lowered the phone to his chest. His barely held-together body collapsed fully to the floor. A wail, like a child’s unrestrained sobbing, burst forth.