M 114

A large hand clung stickily to the ribs and below the solar plexus. As if determined to find even fragments of Sehwa’s emotions that had now hidden away completely, Ki Tae-jeong persistently fumbled his dry body. Unlike when he used to skillfully caress and arouse him, his touch was now clumsy and rough.

“Now I know… what I did wrong to you.”

“…”

“No, I vaguely knew from before… but I don’t think I knew exactly what to call those feelings back then.”

Ki Tae-jeong carefully examined places like Sehwa’s earlobe and nape, trying to continue speaking as gently as possible. When he was happy, embarrassed, or crying sadly… Sehwa used to tinge his body with a faint light. He liked Sehwa, who was like a watercolor painting saturated with water, and the various colors his body showed. No, he liked that he showed such pretty reactions because of him.

“I never learned it anywhere, so I didn’t try to properly convince myself of my feelings, let alone you…”

However, Sehwa was now pale like a sheet of paper, unlike before. Except for where his lips had touched, his whole body was dried up. He was so parched that it seemed a small spark could set him ablaze in an instant.

Originally, he could feel a pulsing heartbeat wherever he touched his body. Thanks to giving his whole heart to him, Sehwa couldn’t even hide his breathing in front of him. But now… Even though they were so close, he couldn’t feel anything.

“I thought a lot after you collapsed. I thought even more… during that time you lost your memories.”

Ki Tae-jeong pulled Sehwa closer, embracing him with a bit more force. It must be because he’s unwell. It’s natural that he’s lost his complexion and vitality after undergoing major surgery. He tried to deny the reality he felt at his fingertips.

“I’ve lived my whole life this way, so even now I can only express myself like this…”

“…”

“I was… too harsh. To you and to the child.”

“…”

“I wanted to tell you, no, I had been thinking I should tell you. While you were sick.”

Perhaps Sehwa would find it ridiculous, but for a soldier, especially for Ki Tae-jeong who had come this far on his own strength, admitting mistakes or acknowledging wrongdoing was tantamount to suicide.

On the battlefield, the only way to rectify a misjudgment is to seize the upper hand. Retrospection and reflection are no different from volunteering to be prey for those who would tear you apart.

Admitting that he was wrong, confessing that he did wrong…

Since the day he first came to training after being dragged into the military, when he witnessed how a young soldier who habitually said “sorry” was made to take responsibility for his habit, he had never sincerely uttered those words until now.

“Sehwa.”

“…Yes.”

He called his name, at a loss for how to continue, but he responded in a small voice. Only then did Ki Tae-jeong let out a sigh of relief and rest his forehead on the crown of Sehwa’s head. He wasn’t expecting him to smile like before right away. Still, hope began to sprout like a tiny seedling that if he kept gently knocking like this, Sehwa’s frozen heart might thaw a little.

“…If you have nothing more to say, I’ll… be going.”

However, as if mocking Ki Tae-jeong’s momentary imagination, Sehwa calmly distanced himself. He had only responded because he called, no longer touched by the sound of his voice calling his name.

Ki Tae-jeong could only watch helplessly as Sehwa’s white hands detached his fingers one by one from where they were wrapped around his body.

“I’m not ignoring… cough… what you’re saying, Brigadier General. I just think… it must have been… difficult for you. From your position as a brigadier general… and in your… situation…”

“…”

“But even so… you did… abandon me, Brigadier General.”

As Sehwa removed even his little finger that had been resting on his lower abdomen, Ki Tae-jeong’s hand fell limply.

Though his grip was weak, Sehwa had incapacitated Ki Tae-jeong in one go. He silently moved his feet again. Walking a few steps forward with painfully slow steps, just as he had once teased him about, he hesitantly looked back. His face showed a resolve to settle everything related to this matter once and for all.

“You, Brigadier General…”

“…”

“You… must have chosen… something more precious to you… And I, foolishly falling in love with you on my own, got carried away… Your way, your choice, hurt me… very much. That’s all there is to it.”

“No, Lee Sehwa. I really didn’t know.” Ki Tae-jeong’s lips moved silently. 

Though he was calling Sehwa’s name over and over in his mind, somehow he couldn’t make a sound. Because the expression with which he looked at him was unfamiliar, because he couldn’t believe those words that seemed to truly mark the end…

“Even saying I hate you… cough… isn’t enough to express how much I… hated you, Brigadier General. But now… I’m not sure… even about that anymore.”

Ki Tae-jeong shook his head slightly. This subtle movement gradually became more intense, enough to make Sehwa flinch. His jaw clenched involuntarily.

He wanted to show him exactly what he had felt, what he had experienced during the time he hadn’t woken up. To tell him no, that he had never abandoned him. That he had never even thought of doing so. That he had spent the whole time thinking, what if he had treated him this normally from the beginning… He wanted to convey it to him straight, without any misunderstanding. But Sehwa seemed to no longer want to hear anything.

“In the past, I think… if you had just said one word, Brigadier General… just one word that you were sorry… then maybe…”

Sehwa spoke calmly, saying that he might have tried to hold him in his heart again somehow, that there was a time when he would have. And this was also a subtle rejection, implying that no matter how accurately Ki Tae-jeong described his psychology and circumstances now, it would be useless.

“I’ll help… with the trial… That’s why you came all the way to the House, right? Because you wanted to win so badly.”

“…”

“In return, please give up custody of Saessak… no, the child.”

“Se… hwa.”

“I hope… you’ll keep… this promise.”

It touched his skin without needing to ask further. This was the last.

This was the last chance Sehwa was giving him, and his only wish was to completely sever the connection with the child. He was earnestly pleading that if he wanted to restore even a little of the completely collapsed trust, he should do at least this much.

“…”

Sehwa stared blankly at Ki Tae-jeong, who couldn’t say anything, then turned around again.

Following the steps of its owner who seemed to have given up everything, Sehwa’s small shadow that had been attached to Ki Tae-jeong also broke off. What had been a black mass transformed into a round, thin, human-like shape following Sehwa’s movements.

And the moment Sehwa’s body disappeared from Ki Tae-jeong’s sight around the corner of the corridor. His small shadow, which had still been stretched on the floor, urgently curled up. Shoulders hunched, and the thin back trembled. That sorrowful shaking was achingly familiar.

‘…He’s crying because of me again. But now he doesn’t even want to show me his crying face.’

Ki Tae-jeong looked down at his empty hands. The warmth he had always thought was his had vanished so futilely.

After clearing his throat uselessly a few times, he raised his head to see his own shadow still stretched out long. Tangled with various things like the sign on the wall and the window frame… It looked like a monster with legs stretched all the way to the end of the corridor.

Ki Tae-jeong closed his eyes tightly while holding his forehead.

Monster.

Yes, it really was… no different from the appearance of a monster.

***

Except for wearing hospital clothes, one might forget this was a hospital. The recovery room had separate bedroom and living room areas, and the spacious bathroom with a large tub for medicinal baths was even bigger than the room.

Of course, it couldn’t compare to Ki Tae-jeong’s official residence. But that was where a high-ranking military officer lived, wasn’t it? This wasn’t a home or a hotel… How could facilities inside a hospital be this luxurious?

Sehwa got up from his seat, pressing his swollen eyelids with his palms. Putting the book he was reading back in its place, he thought he should definitely decline General Oh Seon-ran’s offer to provide him with a house within the 5-Star area. Only those who have tasted meat know how to eat it. Taking something so beyond his means would only give him indigestion.

He pressed the tablet button to turn off all the lights and burrowed into the soft bedding. Hmm. Tomorrow, he should decide on a name for Saessak and organize what to say at the trial. If he wrote down what he heard from Lieutenant Kim and the situation at the House… wouldn’t Ki Tae-jeong sort it out? Ah, maybe he already knows everything. Then he should ask him to write a script for him to recite in court.

How many days until the trial again? As he was counting the days on his fingers, he heard the sound of a door opening and closing from far away. Although he tried to hide his presence, he could immediately tell it was Ki Tae-jeong from the strong scent of cologne that spread as he approached the bedroom.

Startled, Sehwa tightly closed his eyes. Ki Tae-jeong entered the bedroom with unusually heavy and slow steps, unlike his usual self, and dropped something onto the table with a thud. Even after that, it was a while before he sat down heavily on the empty space of the bed.

Only then did Sehwa realize that Ki Tae-jeong had been drinking, and quite a bit at that. Even though he seemed to have washed up, judging by the dampness mingled with his cologne scent, there was still a faint smell of alcohol lingering.

Even though the room was pitch dark and his eyes were tightly closed, he could clearly feel his gaze directed at him. He stared so intensely that it felt like his cheeks might literally be pierced.

After staying still in his seat for a moment, Ki Tae-jeong finally moved. He lifted the edge of the blanket and crawled in, then held Sehwa tightly from behind as he always did.

The dampness clinging to his hair wet the nape of Sehwa’s neck, causing his body to reflexively jerk slightly despite his pretense of sleep.

Still, Ki Tae-jeong didn’t say anything. He didn’t get angry asking if he was pretending to sleep, or complain that he was still being so stiff even after he had bent over backwards for him, nor did he give instructions on how to behave now that he would give up custody as he wished.

There were no proposals, negotiations, or orders. As if he hadn’t heard anything yesterday, Ki Tae-jeong simply held Sehwa in his arms.

Sehwa just blinked his eyes quietly. After a while, the speed at which his eyelids moved began to slow down gradually. His weak body, easily tired, welcomed the familiar warmth enveloping him. It felt as if voices were shouting from everywhere, telling him to please just sleep, to go to sleep now.

He was just about to be dragged into slumber like that. When he closed and opened his eyes wide for the last time, something strange caught his eye, now accustomed to the darkness. Sehwa rubbed his eyes hard, wondering what he had just seen.

On top of the stack of neatly placed books was a pair of tiny shoes, perhaps as long as his little finger.