24ES | Chapter 10.4

“If you’re coming here for me and not for your patients, don’t bother.”

“W-what do you mean by that…?”

Hageon’s thoughts spun in a whirl of confusion. *Why is he suddenly saying this? Did I do something wrong?*

As Hageon cast a worried glance at Yesung, the latter remained completely unfazed.

Clicking his tongue again, Yesung kept his eyes fixed forward and muttered as if dropping a bombshell.

“…There’s a reason. Just don’t ask. If you need something, call me. Or I’ll come to where you are instead.”

Hageon’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. *What is happening today?*

Yesung had already expressed concern for Hageon’s health twice that day, which was enough to make him happy. Although he regretted not being able to spend more time together, it was still satisfying.

But then… to hear him say, “Call me if you miss me”?

The string of unexpected events left Hageon dumbfounded and speechless.

“Answer me.”

Yesung’s direct demand snapped Hageon out of his daze. The man, who had stubbornly stared ahead moments ago, was now looking Hageon straight in the eyes, demanding a response.

Something about that unwavering gaze reminded Hageon of someone familiar—himself.

It was strange to see his own determination reflected in someone else. But why…?

Swallowing hard, Hageon nodded.

“Yes.”

“…Good.”

At last, Yesung’s intense gaze shifted forward again, leaving Hageon struggling to calm his pounding heart.

It felt as though his heart was beating right under his collarbone.

He had tried not to let himself hope. False expectations only fed negative feelings.

But now, the man who had once seemed incapable of noticing Hageon’s presence was not only aware of him but also initiating conversations.

*Maybe… just maybe…*

Hope began to creep up from within him, words like “what if” and “perhaps” tugging at his thoughts.

“Hurry up, Jung Hageon.”

“Yes, Sunbae.”

Yesung’s call made it impossible for Hageon to stifle the budding hope. As he stepped closer to Yesung, the long shadow following him seemed to sway happily, dancing to the rhythm of his growing feelings.

—

It had been days since Yesung walked Jung Hageon to the on-call room after hearing that he had stayed up for three consecutive nights.

Outside, fierce rain and wind battered the windows. The rainy season was now in full swing, with the news reporting heavy rainfall almost daily.

Gazing at the water streaming down the glass like a river, Yesung thought about Hageon.

*Maybe I should’ve done more that day. Brought him to the pediatrics on-call room and made sure he took some supplements. Or maybe even taken him to the emergency room for an IV drip.*

He had surely slept, right? Even if he only had ten minutes, he must’ve slept. Yesung had practically shoved him into the on-call room, so he had to have rested.

“…Damn it, making me worry for no reason.”

Yesung hadn’t seen Hageon since that day and hadn’t had the chance to check on him. Days of worry piled up, invading his thoughts whenever he had a free moment.

As Yesung stared blankly out the window, lost in thought, he suddenly felt a pair of eyes on him.

Startled, he straightened his posture.

“Oh, sorry, Minwook. I was just thinking about something.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling warmly. At that, the small child moved his lips and spoke in a tiny voice.

“…Doctor.”

Yesung’s eyes widened in surprise. Ever since Minwook had been admitted, Yesung had visited his room daily, even if only for a moment. Though the boy’s wounds were healing well and his discharge date was near, Yesung had wanted to spend time with him.

Had all those efforts finally paid off?

Leaning forward urgently, Yesung gripped the side of the bed.

“Yes, Minwook! I’m here. Do you have something you want to say to me?”

As a flood of questions poured out, Minwook turned his gaze to the window. Watching the rain streaking down the glass, he softly said,

“…It’s raining.”

Yesung froze. His eyes followed Minwook’s to the rain outside.

Then, a tiny voice rose again from below.

“…And my mom cries every night.”

“…What?”

“She thinks I’m asleep, but she just sits by my bed, holding my hand tightly and crying. Every day, without missing a single night since I was admitted to the hospital. Every single day…”

Minwook’s hollow voice resonated deeply, tugging at Yesung’s heartstrings. He turned to look at Minwook, and their eyes met midair, locking in an unspoken exchange.

“Do you think it’s my fault, Doctor? It must be because of me that my mom cries, right? Because I keep my mouth shut, because I don’t say anything to her. That’s why she’s crying, isn’t it?”

Minwook was a mature child for his age. And now, Yesung felt he finally understood why the boy had stayed silent, refusing to speak until now.

He didn’t want to make his mom sad.

Where could you find such a thoughtful and kind-hearted child? A child like this… how could anyone hurt him? Those… awful people.

Yesung bit his lip hard, shaking his head.

“No, Minwook. No. You’ve done nothing wrong. If anyone’s at fault, it’s the kids who hurt you. They’re the ones who are wrong—those bad kids.”

Minwook was a patient, a minor no less. Yesung knew that using harsh language in front of the boy was inappropriate, but he couldn’t suppress the anger boiling inside.

And even this response was filtered—inside his mind, a storm of curses was raging, aimed at those who had wronged the boy.

When Yesung took his hand, Minwook held on tightly, gripping the warmth that enveloped his once icy fingers.

“Doctor… I don’t have a dad. My mom has raised me all by herself until now. She’s done everything for me on her own…”

Yesung had suspected there might be more to Minwook’s story. After all, throughout the long hospital stay, it was always his mother by his side.

Gently, Yesung reached out and brushed Minwook’s bangs aside.

“I see,” he said softly.

“Yes… So, I don’t want my mom to cry because of me anymore. I want her to smile again, like before. I really want her to be happy again. So, Doctor, please…”

“Yes, Minwook. I’m listening.”

“Please help me. Please, I’m begging you…”

How hard it must have been for him to finally say those words. His heart must have festered with unspoken pain until it could no longer be contained.

Yesung squeezed Minwook’s hand tighter than before, as if to reassure him.

“I will. I’ll help you. Every adult here will help you, Minwook. We’ll all do everything we can.”

So don’t cry, Minwook. You’ve done nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing.

Yesung reached out and gently wiped away the silent tears streaming down the boy’s face. As the rain poured down outside the window, Yesung silently wished that the boy’s pain would wash away with it, leaving him lighter and freer.

—

After confirming that Minwook was asleep, Yesung quietly exited the hospital room. Minwook’s mother, who had stepped aside earlier at Yesung’s request for private time with her son, immediately approached him.

“Doctor!”

“Oh, Ma’am.”

She looked up at him with eyes full of hope. Perhaps today would be different. Maybe something had changed. Her anticipation was clear.

Until yesterday, meeting that hopeful gaze had felt burdensome for Yesung. But not today. Today, he finally had something to meet her expectations.

With a firm expression, Yesung stood before her.

“There’s something I need to tell you, Ma’am.”

“Our… our Minwook… has he finally…?”

Her eyes widened as she clutched at his words. Yesung quietly nodded.

“Oh my goodness… Thank you, God! Thank you so much!”

She looked up at the hospital ceiling, murmuring her gratitude over and over again. Watching her, Yesung tried to swallow the bitterness welling up inside. He knew her reaction would change once she heard the full story.

Steeling himself, Yesung spoke with a heavy heart.

“Please don’t be too shocked, but listen carefully, Ma’am.”

Slowly and carefully, Yesung revealed what only he and a few other medical staff had known until now: Minwook had been the victim of relentless bullying at school, at the hands of a group known as the iljin—the so-called school delinquents.

On the day of the incident, they had summoned him during lunch, as they often did. As usual, they demanded money. But that day, something inside Minwook snapped.

For so long, he had endured the humiliation and anger. But why? Why did he have to suffer like this? He hadn’t done anything wrong, yet he was targeted, treated like this.

Why should I give in? Why should I hand over money my mom worked so hard to earn?

Remembering how his mother had quietly handed him pocket money, despite noticing his increased spending, guilt bubbled up inside him. He couldn’t keep doing this. He couldn’t keep letting it happen.

His resistance led to a physical altercation. In the scuffle, Minwook picked up a beer bottle that had been lying in the alley and broke it—out of sheer desperation to protect himself.

But the weapon he had wielded in self-defense ended up being used against him. Outnumbered, Minwook fought with everything he had. The only mark of his resistance was a shallow scratch on the ringleader’s cheek.

Yesung felt a wave of relief when he realized the injuries to Minwook weren’t on his neck. It was also sheer luck that someone found him quickly. If they had been even a little later…

As Yesung continued his story, the joy and relief that had been so evident in the mother’s face began to fade. By the time he finished, her expression was one of disbelief.

“So… you’re saying the ones who hurt my Minwook… are students from his school?”

“…Yes. As difficult as it is to believe, that’s the truth. And it wasn’t the first time. From what we’ve gathered, the bullying had been ongoing for some time.”

Unlike Yesung, who remained calm, Minwook’s mother couldn’t contain her emotions. Grabbing onto Yesung’s arm, she cried out.

“Then why… Why didn’t anyone tell me until now?!”

“Because it’s such a sensitive issue, we had to prioritize Minwook’s wishes. From what I understand, when a child shuts down like this, it’s often because they’ve lost trust in everyone else. It’s a kind of hopelessness.”

Yesung bit his lip before continuing.

“We needed time to build that trust with him, Ma’am.”

Overwhelmed, she slid down the wall, collapsing onto the floor. Yesung quickly crouched down beside her.

“Ma’am! Are you alright?”

“To think… to think it wasn’t the first time. That all this time, such horrible things were happening to my Minwook at school, and I didn’t even know…”

For her, Minwook was her entire world—her one and only precious child. To think he had been suffering such terrible things, in a place as familiar as his school…

Yesung couldn’t even begin to imagine the depth of her pain.

Betrayal, anger, sorrow, guilt—a torrent of emotions flickered across her face as she processed his words.

But ultimately, the emotion that consumed her was self-blame.