YHP 61

It was only about five minutes after Jeong-in rushed into the hospital room that he heard a knock.

After all, all he had done with Ho-jin was sit together and eat cup ramen, but just in case, he had deliberately opened all the windows, and the room had gotten a little chilly in the meantime. Hastily closing the windows, Jeong-in turned his head towards the door.

“Choi Gae-tteok.”

The voice that followed was, as expected, that of his big uncle, Jeong-hoon. But for some reason, he didn’t open the door even after knocking.

“Ha…”

It wasn’t hard to guess the reason. Recalling that he had been unfairly misunderstood by Won-kyung, Jeong-in strode over and opened the door. Sure enough, he seemed to have heard everything, and he lightly brushed past Jeong-in and said one word.

“It’ll rot your bones.”

“…I’m telling you, it’s really not like that, I swear?”

Whether he didn’t believe him, or just wanted to pretend he didn’t know. Jeong-hoon, like Won-kyung, didn’t even seem to pretend to listen.

“Where’s little uncle? Wasn’t he coming with you?”

Jeong-in followed him, dragging the IV drip along.

“He met the director on the way up and is talking, he’ll be here soon…”

He was referring to the attending physician who had been taking care of Jeong-in since the moment he was born.

Jeong-hoon placed a box of sushi and cookies that looked like they had just been packaged on the table. Then, he suddenly swept the hospital room with a cold gaze and frowned.

“What, did someone come here?”

Jeong-in, feeling startled, avoided his gaze.

“Huh? No one came.”

“But what’s this smell?”

It seemed like he couldn’t fool him with just this much. Jeong-in quickly assessed the situation and changed the subject.

“Hey, Dad. I don’t think I have any pain anymore. I feel perfectly fine.”

Then Jeong-hoon’s face melted away in an instant. He stroked Jeong-in’s cheek with eyes dripping with honey.

“That’s a relief.”

“I don’t even know if this was something that needed to come to the emergency room. I think I can be discharged soon…”

“Still, you’re getting discharged on the scheduled day.”

Jeong-hoon, who had cut him off with a single stroke, started unpacking the food one by one. From the types of sushi and cookies to the drinks, everything was made up of only Jeong-in’s favorites.

“Eat the cookies after you eat.”

“How many?”

“Three.”

Even though he already knew the answer, he asked just in case, but Jeong-in’s daily cookie allowance, which had been set at three since he was a child, still hadn’t increased even after nearly 20 years. Jeong-in jokingly threw at him.

“Dad, no asset on Earth has ever had such a low rate of appreciation. It’s normal for something to happen if you just hold on for 10 years. But what’s going on with 0 percent after almost 20 years?”

“Then why don’t you give me an earnings surprise this time? If you grow over 180 centimeters this year, I’ll give you one more.”

“…Ha, really. It’s been ages since my growth plates closed.”

Annoyed, he grumbled, and Jeong-hoon patted the bed, telling him to sit down first. And almost at the same time as he took out the chopsticks and handed them over, Won-kyung also entered the hospital room. Jeong-in picked up a piece of sushi with plump salmon on top and greeted Won-kyung with a wink, “You’re here?”

Jeong-hoon took Won-kyung’s hand as he approached him and lightly kissed him on the forehead as a habit. It was such a natural and familiar scene that Jeong-in didn’t pay any attention to it and started diligently devouring the sushi.

“But Won-kyung.”

Jeong-hoon suddenly asked Won-kyung.

“I keep smelling something strange, do any of Jeong-in’s medical staff happen to be Alphas?”

“Cough…”

Jeong-in barely managed to hold back the cough that was about to burst out and gave Won-kyung a truly desperate look. Please don’t say anything, please.

And Won-kyung, who understood him perfectly, smiled calmly and replied.

“There might be one or two, maybe a little bit rubbed off from other patients.”

“It’s a Heterogeneous specialty hospital, can’t they manage something like that properly?”

Jeong-hoon had a very displeased expression.

“They say that suddenly having your cycle pulled forward is also due to the influence of Alpha Pheromones, what the hell is constantly hurting a sick kid… Wait. Choi Jeong-in, do you happen to have an Alpha you’re seeing?”

“Huh?”

Jeong-in, startled, looked at him with the end of the chopsticks in his mouth.

“Dad clearly said it, don’t meet Alphas.”

A cold and stern voice followed.

“Don’t let it slip and engrave it clearly. If an Alpha dares to say or do anything that will hurt you even a little bit by flaunting their Pheromones, I won’t let them get away with it, do you understand?”

He didn’t know what he was thinking, but it seemed like his anger was amplifying as he spoke.

“…No, why are you picking on the kid? They might just brush past each other sometimes.”

While Won-kyung was cutting him off appropriately, Jeong-in chewed and swallowed the sushi, taking some time for self-reflection. Like begets like, the gradation-like anger that sometimes rose up in him seemed to have been inherited from Jeong-hoon.

“Rather, if you’re exposed often, you might get used to it and become less sensitive, so don’t worry too much. Look at Hyo-jun, nothing happens even though they hang out every day.”

“But why are you suddenly doing this? Nothing happened when you were with Hyo-jun.”

“Come to think of it, you’re right.”

At that, Won-kyung turned to look at him.

“…Nothing definitely happened between Hyo-jun and me, though.”

There seemed to be a bone in his words, spoken with a smile. Jeong-in couldn’t comfortably pick at his sushi anymore. He put down his chopsticks.

“No… I mean. There are a lot of Alphas at school besides Cho Hyo-jun. I sometimes go out to eat with them, wander around here and there…”

Then, Jeong-hoon and Won-kyung’s expressions subtly changed. Jeong-in looked back and forth between his dads and the sushi, starting to rack his brain.

“…That is.”

They were quick-witted and smart people. Won-kyung had even seen Ho-jin with his own eyes.

He really, absolutely, would never do ‘that kind of thing,’ but the thought that Won-kyung might be misunderstanding the relationship between Ho-jin and him made him anxious to clear things up right away.

“It could happen, right? Just because you hang out with an Alpha doesn’t mean you’re in that kind of… weird relationship.”

It was in the middle of his stammering excuses. Jeong-hoon, who had been staring at him with a seemingly angry, expressionless face, suddenly smiled. He took a step closer and slowly stroked Jeong-in’s hair.

“…Looks like you’re having fun.”

The voice was full of relief, and Jeong-in wanted to bite his tongue.

“So, what kind of food have you been eating?”

“Mostly Korean food… There’s a place that makes good baekban.”

What was wrong with him that he was always like this?

His dads were always worried about him, but he was only thinking about how to make excuses.

“Where did you go to hang out?”

“Just…”

Guilt made his voice shrink. Even so, Jeong-hoon and Won-kyung were waiting for Jeong-in’s words with warm eyes.

“…Just.”

It was then. Suddenly, he felt breathless in front of those eyes, filled only with affection.

He felt like his own existence was a ticking time bomb.

“I went around near the school too… And sometimes a little further away.”

The band-aid he had covered up without properly finishing came loose, revealing the hideous, festering past inside. And in the face of the sudden tidal wave, Jeong-in helplessly collapsed.

If he made even one mistake here, it felt like this whole scene would crumble as if it had all been a dream.

It was a terrifying thought, even just imagining it. He never wanted to go back to that time when he hurt everyone he loved because he couldn’t handle this one feeling.

“And…”

A very long time had passed. He was okay now. There was no reason not to be.

Thanks to everyone’s careful care, he didn’t even have a scratch. The turmoil he had brought into this peaceful home had long since subsided without a trace. Finally, everything was perfectly in place.

So it just had to be him. If he didn’t make a mistake, if he didn’t make them worry for no reason. Then nothing would change. No one would be sad. No one would have to be hurt because of him ever again.

“…I’m going to see the flowers with a friend on Sunday.”

Choi Jeong-in, get a grip. Please do well.

He frantically repeated the words in his head and hid his clammy hands under the blanket.

“Oh, right, I also tried makgeolli? It was really good.”

He hadn’t taken responsibility for anything, so now it was his turn to bear everything. No matter how overwhelming it was, he had a duty to protect the present.

He had no complaints because it was his due. This was the price for nonchalantly stabbing the people he loved in the back. It was the interest on the debt that had been accumulating since the moment he said those harsh words and ran away across the distant sea, abandoning everyone to save his own skin.

He knew that whining about how heavy this was now was disrespectful to the people in front of him who had spent six years with their hearts torn apart.

“Going to school is better than I thought.”

Even so, it was overwhelming. He knew well enough that he had created his own hell, but he desperately wanted someone to help him. And in that cowardice, there was one thing he wanted to hold onto.

‘Then repeat after me, Choi Jeong-in didn’t do anything wrong.’

A gentle voice covered his ravaged heart.

Jeong-in quickly lowered his head, feeling like he was about to burst into tears. He gritted his teeth and held it in, hoping he wouldn’t be found out. Then, looking at the floor, he put on the happiest expression he could. Even that was a deception.

“I’m having fun. So…”

No, Ho-jin.

You’re wrong.

“So, you don’t have to worry about me.”

You know, no matter how much I think about it, I think I’ve done too many things wrong.