* * *
Click.
The hospital room door opened, and Siwon, who had been sitting outside, rushed over.
“Hyung, you’re out? I bought something cool to drink, do you wa—”
Siwon, holding sports drinks in both hands, stopped mid-sentence the moment he saw Junhee.
Ignoring Siwon’s gaze, Junhee spoke, his voice still slightly hoarse.
“Sorry, but I need to go wash my face.”
“Ah, yeah, sure! I-I’ll stay with your mom while you do. Go ahead, hyung.”
Siwon was visibly flustered.
It was probably because Junhee’s eyes were swollen like a fish’s.
But more than that, it was because Siwon had never seen him cry.
Not even once.
Running a hand through his hair to cover his face, Junhee knew it wasn’t enough to hide the sorrow clinging to his features.
In the bathroom, cold water washed over his burning eyes.
He let the sadness flow until his face flushed red.
“Haa.”
Staring at his reflection in the mirror, he bit his lip.
In his now-calmer eyes, a single resolution was set in stone.
He had to save his mother.
But he didn’t have that kind of money.
Even if he did, he had no connections—without them, even getting proper treatment would be difficult.
The fragmented pieces of his thoughts coalesced, leading him to a dangerous conclusion.
“My family runs the Dain Medical Foundation, sir.”
“If the treatment costs are too much of a burden… since we’re a government-affiliated foundation, there are conditional medical assistance programs available.”
“I’ll make it happen.”
Different voices overlapped in his head, ringing in his ears.
To silence them, he splashed more cold water on his face.
Leaving the bathroom, he wandered toward the hospital’s quieter parking lot, hoping to clear his mind.
Then—someone suddenly grabbed his shoulder.
Thrown off balance, he barely managed to steady himself before turning around.
“Junhee. It’s me. Your father.”
The man standing before him reeked of alcohol, his unkempt beard rough and scruffy.
“How… how did you find me?”
“Baek Seung—no, never mind that. You don’t need to know. Junhee, you’ve grown so much. You look great. Let me give you a hug.”
“Get your hands off me.”
Junhee shoved him away, stepping back.
Staggering, his father glared at him with bloodshot eyes and bellowed—
“Yoo Junhee! How dare you talk to your father like this, you disrespectful little—”
“Get lost. I have nothing to say to you, so don’t cause a scene here.”
He was the man who had driven a nail into both Junhee’s and his mother’s hearts.
And after doing so, he shamelessly set up a new life with Baek Seunggyo, only to come crawling back to Junhee when he lost his senses again.
All for a mere five million won.
A man who abandoned his wife for money, then abandoned Junhee again—he was barely even human.
The man, who had been staring blankly into Junhee’s seething eyes, let out a scoff.
“So that’s how you’re gonna play it? That damn woman must’ve filled your head with nonsense. If you’re gonna die, at least do it cleanly.”
“Shut up. What the hell are you doing here?”
Junhee found it utterly disgusting how the man played the victim when he was the one who had torn their family apart.
The man who had given him his last name—Yoo Yeongho—grinned mockingly.
“Why do you think, Junhee? For the same reason as you.”
“…What?”
“That woman took out quite a few insurance policies. We should split it fairly, don’t you think?”
A beast in human skin, still unsatisfied after devouring every last piece of his family, dared to wag his filthy tongue.
“You sick bastard.”
“Just give me half, Junhee. Then I’ll leave you alone—”
Smack!
The man’s face whipped to the side.
Junhee, his hand still tingling, grabbed the man by the collar.
“Shut that filthy mouth of yours.”
“You ungrateful little shit…! I saved you from freezing to death in the dead of winter and raised you—”
“I told you to shut up.”
It was his mother who had saved him.
Not this worthless, drunken monster.
Every time this disgusting beast got drunk and shouted, every time he raised his hand to strike, his mother had pushed Junhee into the bedroom and stood guard at the door.
Things broke.
There were loud crashes.
But not once did she scream in pain—because she didn’t want to scare him.
She only came for him once the drunkard had collapsed, whispering soothing words as she pulled him into her arms.
‘Mom, did Dad hit you? Is Dad a bad person?’
‘No, he’s not bad. He just… He wants to do better for me and for you, but he can’t, and that makes him upset.’
She had spoken so gently as she stroked his back that he had foolishly believed her.
She had carried all the pain herself so that Junhee wouldn’t have to hate his father.
Maybe it was his father who had made her sick.
Look at this, Mom.
“This is exactly why those filthy, low-class bastards with no roots… I should’ve beaten the life out of you and that wench together. You don’t know your damn place, do you?”
So he really was a bad person after all.
Junhee’s hands trembled as they wrapped around the man’s throat.
“Gah! You—bastard—!”
With near-superhuman strength, Yoo Yeongho shoved Junhee off.
The difference in their size had been obvious from the start—there was never any chance of winning.
Junhee stumbled and fell, and the man’s filthy boot slammed into his stomach.
“Urk…!”
Junhee collapsed, clutching his abdomen.
“You little shit, you don’t know your place!”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Every curse spat from the man’s mouth was punctuated by a merciless kick—to his stomach, his shins, even his face.
Junhee curled up, lifting his arms to shield his head, but before he knew it, he was twenty years old again.
Back in that time when he had lost even the ability to cry, helpless against an overwhelming violence.
His heavy eyelids began to close, the darkness swallowing him whole.
And then—a light.
A single, blindingly bright streak of light cut through the void and stopped in front of him.
A car horn blared in his ringing ears.
Junhee thought it was another hallucination tormenting him after all these nights.
But then, footsteps.
Slow, deliberate.
The scent of something sweet, almost intoxicating, tickled his nose.
“You… Who the hell are you?”
Junhee curled in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut.
As miserable as the asphalt pressing against his cheek.
“Fuck. What are you doing, old man?”
“What…?”
“I’ve been holding back because I don’t want to break him.”
“You crazy little—”
He wanted the man to just leave.
Or maybe—he wanted to beg for help.
Junhee couldn’t tell what he wanted anymore, drowning in confusion.
All because this person was close.
Crack!
Something snapped like a pumpkin splitting open, followed by a heavy thud.
“Junhee.”
Warmth touched his eyelids.
Like someone carefully tucking his clothes into place, a palm covered his eyes.
And at that touch, something inside him cracked open.
Tears threatened to spill over.
He bit his lips hard, refusing to let anything out.
“You were waiting for me?”
“…”
“Oh, you missed me, didn’t you?”
That same arrogant voice, unbearably sweet, suffocating.
If he opened his mouth now, he might spill out everything this man wanted to hear.
Junhee bit down harder.
A thumb brushed over his swollen lips.
“Hah. Yeah, you’re definitely Yoo Junhee.”
Junhee didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
That voice, drilling into his ears, sent shivers through his heart.
The man scooped Junhee up, pushing his damp hair back with a tut.
“Every time I let you go, you come back even more fucked up. If I let you go again, I might find you dead next time.”
“…”
“So should I still let you go? I really don’t want to be charged with aiding and abetting murder.”
Junhee let out a breath.
Yeah.
This bastard talking nonsense—he was the Ki Taeryu he knew.
With that thought, his consciousness faded away.
When he opened his eyes, he saw a familiar ceiling.
The innermost bedroom of the hotel where Ki Taeryu stayed.
“Urgh…”
Junhee tried to sit up but groaned.
Every inch of his body throbbed in pain.
And now he noticed—the IV drip in his left wrist.
He could just picture Kim Daeheon grumbling while treating him.
As he stared blankly at the ceiling, the door clicked open.
“You’re awake. You could’ve slept more.”
“…”
“How are you feeling? The doc says nothing’s broken, but he’s a quack, so who knows?”
Junhee wondered why he even kept a doctor he didn’t trust but decided not to ask.
“Feels like I got beaten to a pulp.”
“Well, you did.”
‘…Should I just go home?’
If not for the IV tethering him like a shackle, he might have.
Ki Taeryu sauntered over, smirking.
“I asked for the biggest one they had.”
Like he wanted a pat on the head for a job well done.
* * *
