Destruction — Chapter 20

He looked around for Woobeom but received no response. The fear of having been left alone crept in, and despite the effort it took, Saejin slowly got out of bed. Every step felt like walking barefoot over thorns. Just letting his legs touch the floor sent jolts of pain through his abdomen. No amount of caution helped; just walking was already too much. Saejin bent his waist halfway in reaction to the pain and leaned on the nearby furniture to move.

The entire house felt unstable. Sometimes the floor seemed to slide sideways, other times the ceiling flipped beneath him. Saejin pressed on his eyelids, trying to stabilize his vision. But the dizzy spells turned his stomach, and bile rose up into his throat, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. As he slowly dragged himself forward, his fingers finally reached a doorknob. He paused to regulate his rapid breathing, then mustered strength to open the door.

The smell of cigarettes mixed with Woobeom’s scent.

Crossing the threshold, Saejin staggered forward, following that familiar trace through the disorienting haze. But he stepped wrong on the edge of a rug and, unable to stabilize his core, collapsed forward.

“Urgh!”

The impact clenched his abdominal muscles, triggering a rush of pain that made sweat break out all over his body. He needed to get up—but his limbs lacked the strength to support him. As he struggled on the floor for a long while, that distinct scent—Woobeom’s scent—began to draw closer.

“Why did you crawl all the way out here…?”

Saejin let himself be supported by the hand that helped him up. Woobeom’s hair was damp as if he had just taken a shower. Saejin felt a wave of relief knowing Woobeom was by his side, but it didn’t last long—he hastily grabbed his hand.

“Hyung, what about the director? He… he came with us too, right?”

The view through the window clearly showed they were in the mountains. Woobeom must’ve brought him all the way to a villa, but the director was nowhere in sight. At the desperate question, Woobeom parted his lips as if to speak, then closed them tightly. Sensing anxiety in his demeanor, Saejin shook his head with increasing urgency.

“…Right, of course. There’s no way the director would still be in Suwon. He went back to the orphanage safely, didn’t he? Right?”

“……”

“Why… why won’t you answer me? Huh…? Oh, is it because it’s too obvious a question and you’re annoyed? I mean, if we made it to Suwon, of course… of course the director went to Osan…”

“Yoon Saejin.”

“Just answer me!”

His fever clouding his mind, Saejin rambled on incoherently, his flushed face burning red. Woobeom avoided his desperate, pleading gaze and grabbed Saejin’s trembling shoulders firmly.

“Do you even know what your temperature is right now? Calm down.”

“…Don’t tell me… he got infected because of me?”

As he fumbled through fragmented memories, the image of the director heading to the pharmacy alone surfaced briefly. Saejin’s hollow, devastated eyes met Woobeom’s.

“…It’s true. It’s because of me. Because of me!”

The director had asked Woobeom to soften the truth, but Woobeom couldn’t bear to distort the man’s sacrifice. Silence was as good as confirmation. Saejin’s hand, which had been clinging to Woobeom, dropped limply to the floor. His screaming voice fell silent like a broken machine, and his panting breaths ceased as if his lungs had stopped working.

“You should’ve stopped him… I begged you.”

Thick tears, hanging from his lower lashes, trailed down his cheeks and clung to his chin. Even as the tears dropped one by one, the mist clouding his vision refused to lift.

“He said he couldn’t lose you, his son. Who was I to stop him?”

Woobeom’s calm response hit Saejin square in the chest like a hammer. The room echoed with the sound of Saejin’s heart-wrenching sobs.

He cried and cried. No matter how much he cried, the tears kept flowing, soaking his face as if every drop of moisture in his body was pouring out. Just as Woobeom crouched to help him back into the bedroom, Saejin’s crying suddenly stopped. Like a lie, his head rolled back as he fainted from emotional exhaustion.

Catching his limp body, Woobeom carried him to the bedroom and checked his temperature. It had already been over 38°C when they arrived, and now, after the emotional breakdown, it had risen even higher. Woobeom gently pressed the back of his hand to Saejin’s puffy eyelids. Even in sleep, Saejin sobbed faintly, and fresh tears rolled down from the corners of his eyes.

Seeing that the bed was soaked, Woobeom carefully moved Saejin to the sofa to change the sheets. Physical injuries could be treated with medicine, but emotional wounds were harder to heal. With a complex mix of emotions, he straightened the bedding and then laid Saejin back down.

‘The fever reducer isn’t working.’

There had been antipyretics in Saejin’s bag, and Woobeom had tried giving them to him, but the stubborn fever showed no signs of subsiding. Left with no choice, he soaked a towel in cold water and began wiping Saejin’s body thoroughly to help lower the heat.

“Director…”

Maybe he was dreaming of the director. Woobeom paused for a moment as he placed an ice pack on Saejin’s forehead.

‘This isn’t something I can fix.’

Woobeom knew there was no room for him in the bond between Saejin and the director. The grief from that loss was something Saejin would have to come to terms with himself. Watching the sorrow etched on Saejin’s face, Woobeom’s own expression grew stiff with unspoken emotion. What Saejin was going through now looked all too similar to what Woobeom had once endured.

When he lost his younger sibling, he couldn’t find his way. He knew he was spiraling down the wrong path but couldn’t stop himself. Acting like a delinquent, out of control, he grew into a warped adult. He sometimes wondered what might’ve happened if someone had been there to comfort him back then. Not that it changed anything now.

‘…What I can do is…’

Woobeom gently cupped Saejin’s tear-streaked cheek, his hand moving softly like he was soothing a child. Slowly, his fingers slid down and patted Saejin’s chest. As he touched his own lips, the bitterness returned. He hadn’t even gone that long without smoking, yet he already craved another cigarette. Grinding his teeth against the craving, he fixed his gaze on Saejin.

---

Saejin didn’t wake until the next day. Squinting against the harsh sunlight, he forced open his swollen eyes and looked around. Just blinking was a challenge.

‘Hyung…?’

He spotted Woobeom, apparently asleep after staying up caring for him. Around him were scattered ice wrappers and wet towels.

“Hyung, wake…”

Saejin was about to wake him gently so he could sleep more comfortably, but then he stopped. Looking down at his heavy arm, he saw that Woobeom had been holding his hand. That warmth had been there the whole time. Why hadn’t he noticed?

Staring at their joined hands, Saejin suddenly burst into tears, overwhelmed with emotion.

“H-huuh…!”

Startled by the sudden sobs, Woobeom awoke and turned his stiff neck with a grimace. Seeing the kid, who had just been sleeping soundly, suddenly crying like that was more than enough to catch him off guard.

“What’s wrong?”

At the simple question, Saejin barely managed to keep his quivering lower lip in check. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, like he was trying to speak, but then sank back into silence. Trying his best to hold back the tears, he seemed intent on speaking clearly—but it was no use. Giving up on holding it in, Saejin’s shoulders shook as he broke down.

“S-sob… I’m sorry… huu, huhuh…”

“What?”

“Hyung… you, you brought me here… hng, all the way here… even though it must’ve been so hard. But yesterday, I… hng…”

“What are you saying?”

“It wasn’t even your fault… ngh. I was just so upset… I’m sorry, I’m really sorry…”

It wasn’t like a baby babbling, but it still took him a painfully long time to form a complete sentence. Woobeom, listening quietly to the nearly unintelligible rambling, raised an eyebrow. After hearing enough, he more or less understood what Saejin was trying to say—it sounded like an apology for what he’d blurted out before fainting yesterday. Saejin’s emotional outburst had been inevitable. And knowing just how torn up he must’ve felt inside, Woobeom hadn’t really minded.

“Your fever finally went down, and now you’re crying again, gonna bring it right back up.”

“…I won’t cry.”

Despite his words, tears were still flowing freely down Saejin’s cheeks. Seeing no other choice, Woobeom sighed and rubbed his forehead, then lifted Saejin into his arms.

“Hy-hyung?”

“You need strength before you can take medicine.”

In a disaster like this, the most important thing was stamina. No one knew what might happen next, so at the very least, he needed enough strength to protect himself.

‘He’s still young, so he’ll recover quickly.’

He didn’t expect full recovery. Just enough that Saejin could run from monsters or infected on his own would be enough. Saejin tried to squirm out of Woobeom’s arms, insisting he could walk, but the moment pain shot through his wound, he flinched and let out a whimper between his teeth. Just flailing his legs was enough to make it throb. Embarrassed, Saejin decided to stay still and let himself be carried.

“Where are we going…?”

He vaguely remembered waking up and stepping into the living room yesterday, but he hadn’t been in any state to notice his surroundings. Now, looking around like someone discovering a new civilization, he quickly realized Woobeom was heading to the kitchen table. There, a bowl of porridge was steaming.

“I cooked it just in case.”

“Ah…”

Saejin didn’t know how to respond to the kindness. He lowered his head deeply, a strange warm fuzziness blooming in his chest—

Wait. Warm fuzziness?

“Uugh!”

“…Fuck.”

Woobeom froze mid-step and cursed under his breath. Saejin, dizzy from anemia, had vomited on him before he could help it.

“Ah…!”

Eyes wide like a rabbit, Saejin flailed to get down, ignoring the pain. But when Woobeom glared sharply in return, Saejin shrank. Seeing what a mess he’d made of Woobeom, he was mortified. How was he ever going to live this down? He just wanted to disappear into the void. Without a word, Woobeom carried him into the bathroom and grabbed a couple of towels.

“I’m sorry… now you have to shower again because of me…”

“It’s fine.”

What could he possibly say to a sick kid? Woobeom peeled off his soiled shirt. It was easy for him—he could just wash up again. But Saejin had a wound on his stomach. It would be hard for him to bathe alone. Even lifting his hands would hurt. After a brief pause, Woobeom made a decision and started to take off Saejin’s T-shirt.

“Hyung? Wh-what are you doing?”

“I’m going to wash you.”

“I can do it myself…”

“In that condition?”

“…Then, please.”

Realizing how thoroughly his body was wrapped in bandages, Saejin gave a small nod. Just that slight motion sent pain shooting up from his stomach as his waist bent. He finally accepted that Woobeom wasn’t being overprotective—he really couldn’t do it alone.