24ES | Chapter 10.3

For the first time, Yesung heard someone else describe his professional demeanor. He frowned slightly at the last remark.

Jealous of children, Jung Hageon? That’s somewhat ridiculous yet somehow embarrassing.

Yesung waved his arms dismissively.

“Next, next. Any other reason?”

Noticing Yesung’s ears turn slightly red, Jung Hageon gave a faint smile. He smoothly changed the subject as Yesung wanted.

“Second, you always carry chocolates, candies, and jellies that children like in your pockets. And look there, in your coat pocket—there’s a band-aid with kids’ favorite characters on it.”

Jung Hageon nodded towards Yesung’s left chest where, indeed, pens and the described band-aids were tucked.

Yesung’s eyes widened.

“When did you see that… You’ve got sharp eyes.”

His murmured comment was met with an immediate reply.

“It involves you, after all.”

This guy really doesn’t miss a beat.

Internally rolling his eyes, Yesung tilted his head slightly.

“The first reason is plausible. But the second, not so much.”

“What?”

Jung Hageon seemed surprised to have his observation dismissed. Yesung raised his chin with a triumphant look.

“That second theory of yours isn’t valid for concluding that I like kids. Didn’t you rotate through pediatrics during your internship? It’s mandatory.”

“…Yes, I did. Like you said, pediatrics is mandatory.”

“Then you saw how the pediatric professors handle patients who are hard to communicate with.”

Jung Hageon furrowed his brow, seemingly recalling the past. Yesung watched as his brow slowly smoothed out.

“Remember now? In pediatrics, having candies and chocolates, jellies—it’s like a baseline. They’re essential. You get it?”

“Ah.”

Jung Hageon let out a short exclamation of admiration and nodded. His face showed a realization of something he had forgotten. Yesung, swallowing a laugh, thrust his hand into his coat pocket.

“Well, I’ll still congratulate you for arriving at that conclusion with your first proposition. You’re right, I do like children.”

After all, Jung Hageon was a doctor in the same profession as Yesung. He was thrilled to be acknowledged by another doctor.

Yesung tried to suppress the rising excitement when Jung Hageon asked him,

“So, did you choose pediatric surgery because you like children?”

“You could say that.”

“Can I ask why you like kids?”

Blinking, his expression seemed to say he wanted to know everything about Yesung’s job.

Smiling faintly at his frankness, Yesung met Jung Hageon’s gaze.

“Hmm… Maybe because they are simpler than complicated adults?”

Where exactly? Though he didn’t say it aloud, his gaze said it all. Yesung held back his laughter at the evident confusion on Jung Hageon’s face.

“You don’t know how simple kids are? They laugh and cry over the smallest things. Unlike adults who think and act so complexly. How simple is that?”

Jung Hageon’s face showed he had never considered this perspective before. This was exactly what differentiated children from adults. Typically, adults would dive deep into trivial matters and complicate their thoughts.

“But when I say this, other people say, ‘That’s just kids from your perspective.’ They don’t understand what’s to like about manipulative kids who throw tantrums and cry until they get their way.”

Yesung smirked bitterly.

“What about those people? Aren’t they also looking at kids from their own perspective? Sure, kids outside might act like that. But the ones who come to the hospital? They don’t. They cry for one reason only. Because they’re in pain. Kids don’t just cry over toys they want. For them, crying is a form of communication. They cry because they want to express they’re hurting but can’t do so in words.”

Yesung spoke fervently, almost like a spokesperson for the children.

“And I play the role of making those kids who are in pain smile again.”

That’s why he started this job, and why he continued to do it. Yesung was proud of his work, no matter what anyone else thought.

“Truly, you are amazing, senior.”

And Jung Hageon recognized that pride.

“I couldn’t have done it. You might have noticed, but I’m not particularly fond of kids. Not just kids, really. I don’t even have a particular reason for becoming a doctor.”

That was news to Yesung. As his lips rounded in surprise, Jung Hageon continued.

“I just applied because my scores fit. My middle school teacher told me to try for it. Everyone around me said it was the right thing to do with my grades, that it was obvious. Without any special meaning.”

…How well must he have studied? Even if one excels academically, it’s rare for someone to be told so naturally to apply for medical school. He must be among the top nationwide to make that possible.

Yesung looked at Jung Hageon as if he were a mythical creature. Now, that look he often received from others was directed at Jung Hageon.

But, unlike Yesung, admiration shone in Jung Hageon’s eyes. He truly thought Yesung was remarkable.

“That’s why it’s so impressive to see you handle pediatric patients so skillfully. Like earlier in Seungchae’s room.”

His genuine feelings were clearly conveyed. Yesung felt a warmth creeping up his face.

Flushing slightly under his eyes, Yesung avoided Jung Hageon’s gaze.

“Well, it’s not that impressive.”

“No, it is impressive. Unlike me, who just works mechanically because I have to, without any sense of mission.”

Even the mumbled words that didn’t quite make it out properly were immediately countered. Finding no words to add, Yesung pressed his lips tightly together.

In his eyes, Jung Hageon seemed remarkable too. One didn’t need to have a sense of mission to be a good doctor. Being skilled was enough to make a good doctor because skills saved lives.

In that sense, Yesung considered Jung Hageon a good doctor too. He was about to look up and tell him so directly when something struck him.

Wait a minute.

Yesung’s lips tightened as his eyebrows twitched.

Now that he looked closer, something seemed off about Jung Hageon’s complexion… His skin looked dry, and the area under his eyes was red with congestion…

Why are his lips so chapped? It’s as if he hasn’t touched water in days. He didn’t look this bad when they had last met face-to-face off duty.

Noticing the distinct difference in complexion, Yesung furrowed his brows.

Why did he only notice his change now? They had been together continuously from Seungchae’s room until now.

Was it a lack of attentiveness or observance? Conversely, if it had been him, Jung Hageon would have noticed immediately upon face-to-face contact.

Yesung bit his lip and asked,

“Are you… sick?”

“Me? Sick?”

The question was from Yesung, but the reply came back as a question. Jung Hageon, with wide eyes, pointed at himself as if to confirm he was the subject.

Yesung nodded.

“Yes, you. Your complexion is different than usual. You look really unwell.”

“Oh. Maybe it’s because I haven’t been sleeping well.”

He too was a doctor, but so was Yesung. Although his main focus now was pediatric patients, until a few years ago, adults were also among Yesung’s patients. His sharp medical intuition made Jung Hageon hastily wash his face with his hand.

“It’s okay. I just haven’t been sleeping well these past few days.”

“…Really?”

“Yes, really.”

He smiled, looking pitiable with his parched face. Yesung wanted to move closer and inspect him more thoroughly, but seeing that Jung Hageon didn’t seem to want that, he suppressed the urge and continued,

“How many nights have you stayed up?”

“About… three?”

As Jung Hageon’s fingers counted in the air, Yesung’s eyes widened in shock.

“What? Three nights? You’re saying you’ve been up for three nights?”

“Yes. Emergency patients have been coming in one after another.”

Unlike the startled Yesung, Jung Hageon seemed unfazed, as if such occurrences were routine. He merely pressed his temples a few times, almost making Yesung seem strange for being so surprised.

Even if it were so, how could he stay awake for three straight nights?

Yesung thought that pediatric surgery, notorious for its brutal operation schedules, was not less intense than thoracic surgery. But hearing him now, he realized it wasn’t the same.

At least in pediatric surgery, it wasn’t common to go three days without sleep.

Regaining his composure, Yesung’s brows knitted together.

“Then what are you doing here, right now?”

“Huh?”

“If you have even a little spare time, you should get some sleep. What if you collapse at this rate?”

Yesung’s words came out sharp as he watched Jung Hageon’s utterly stubborn behavior. Grabbing Hageon by the arm, Yesung turned him around and pushed him out of the emergency exit.

The door opened with a bang, and Hageon, now back in the hospital corridor, blinked his wide eyes.

“Sunbae?”

“If you have time to waste, just go get some sleep already.”

Yesung didn’t allow any objections. With a piercing glare, he stopped Hageon from stepping back into the emergency stairwell.

“Doctors are human too. If you don’t go to the on-call room right now and try following me one more time, I swear I won’t let it slide.”

Although Yesung had clearly issued a warning, Hageon couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of curiosity. *What exactly does he mean by ‘won’t let it slide’?*

Picturing potential scenarios, Hageon swallowed nervously. But nothing he imagined came to pass.

“Hurry up and find an on-call room, lie down, and sleep!”

With that, the heavy steel door connecting to the stairwell slammed shut with a resounding *clang.* The sound was a powerful declaration: *Stop following me already.*

Because of that, Hageon never got to say what he wanted to.

“Can’t I stay with you a little longer, Sunbae? I’m really fine…”

His words, now addressed to no one, echoed through the empty hallway. Knowing Yesung wouldn’t budge, Hageon had no choice but to turn away from the firmly closed door.

The drooping shadow trailing behind Hageon mirrored his dejected mood, each step leaving a faint trace of reluctance.

But then, *creak.*

Was it possible that Yesung had heard his muttered words? The tightly shut door to the emergency stairwell opened again, and Yesung reappeared.

Startled by the unexpected turn of events, Hageon quickly turned back with wide eyes.

“Sunbae?”

“I can’t trust this. Who knows if you’ll actually go straight to the on-call room or wander off somewhere else? I need to see it with my own eyes.”

Clicking his tongue, Yesung walked toward Hageon, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern.

As Hageon stared blankly at Yesung’s worried face, the other man walked past him. Turning back, Yesung furrowed his brows and called out.

“What are you doing? Hurry up.”

“Y-yes!”

Snapping out of his daze, Hageon hurried to catch up, though the confusion on his face hadn’t faded.

Walking side by side now, Yesung spoke again.

“And don’t come to the general pediatrics ward anymore.”

“…What?”