PEN Vol 3 Ch. 6

– It’s nothing. You must still be disoriented from the sedative, so please take it easy today. I’ll handle the interrogation later. Haewoong’s really eager to jump in, so there’s no need for you to come, Manager. If anything happens, I’ll call you right away.

“Alright… let me know.”

– Yes, please get some rest.

Although he wanted to help, there was no need to push himself when they said everything was under control, especially since he wasn’t in the best condition. Cheon Sejoo sighed deeply, hung up the phone, and laid back down on the bed. The effects of the sedative were still in his system. Just as he was about to drift back to sleep, a sudden thought jolted him awake.

Kwon Sejin.

That kid had been waiting for him in the car.

Cheon Sejoo hurriedly grabbed his phone again and called Moon Sunhyuk.

“Sunhyuk.”

– Yes, sir?

“Did you see the kid in the car last night?”

– Yes, I took him inside with you. He asked me what had happened to you, so I told him you’d taken some medication and were sleeping. He shouldn’t be too worried.

“Good, thanks. Get back to work.”

– Rest well.

Cheon Sejoo had been worried that Sejin might find the situation strange, but thankfully, Sunhyuk had explained things. Though he wasn’t sure if it had been explained in a kind way, at least it seemed like Sunhyuk had conveyed the message clearly, even if a bit bluntly.

With that worry off his mind, Cheon Sejoo closed his eyes again and spent a long time lying in bed. It wasn’t until after noon that he finally left the bedroom and headed straight toward the bathroom.

They might have changed my clothes, but obviously, no one bathed me, right?

From the moment that thought crossed his mind, he couldn’t shake the unbearably grimy feeling.

When he entered the living room, the house was quiet. It seemed Sejin had already gone to school, evidenced by the neatly arranged dishes left in the sink he had used after breakfast. Stripping off his clothes before even reaching the bathroom, Cheon Sejoo hurried and went inside.

Before turning on the water, he glanced down at his right hand. The bandage wrapped around his hand looked different from how he remembered it. It seemed like someone had rebandaged it while he was unconscious at the workshop. Judging by the amateurish job that looked so clumsy, it’s almost laughable, but it was not Moon Sunhyuk’s work.

Was it Seo Jinyoung?

Cheon Sejoo thought to himself and made a mental note to teach him how to properly handle injuries. The effort was there, but this was far from acceptable.

He carefully took off the poorly wrapped gauze and inspected the wound on his palm and the back of his hand. A scab had formed, and the wound looked clean with no swelling. There didn’t seem to be any need for a hospital visit. Holding his right hand up to keep the wound from getting wet, he turned on the water.

As he washed himself thoroughly with hot water for a long time, the fog clouding his mind began to clear, and he felt refreshed. Following a habit from his time living alone, he wrapped a towel around his head after drying himself off, left the bathroom, picked up the clothes he had taken off earlier, and headed for the laundry room. Since Kwon Sejin always nagged endlessly if he left clothes lying around even for a moment in front of the bathroom, he had also gotten into the habit of immediately putting the laundry into the basket.

Passing by the spare room used as a storage, he entered the laundry room. Sejin usually did laundry at least once every two days, and judging by the pile of laundry, it seemed like today was one of those days. Since he was already there, Cheon Sejoo decided to load it all and pick up the laundry basket.

As he absentmindedly stuffed the clothes into the washing machine, Cheon Sejoo suddenly paused, narrowing his eyes as he looked down at the piece of fabric in his hand. Among the dry clothes was a damp underwear.

Small, black cotton boxers.

“…”

Cheon Sejoo stared at it for a moment, then let out a faint chuckle.

Boys will be boys, after all…

Cheon Sejoo let out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement, as he tossed Sejin’s underwear along with the rest of the laundry into the washing machine and closed the door. After pouring in detergent and fabric softener, he turned it on and left the room.

Small bursts of laughter kept escaping his lips the entire way toward the living room. The thought of having found an excuse to tease Sejin made him grin without realizing it. He couldn’t wait to see Sejin flustered, trying to deny it while stammering out excuses, and it was already making his day.

After walking past the living room, Cheon Sejoo went to the kitchen to eat. He heated up the frozen rice Sejin had prepared to eat when they were in a hurry and took out some of the side dishes Sejin had made earlier. His late lunch went down smoothly.

As expected, Sejin’s cooking suited his taste far better than anything from Ehwagak or anything Moon Sunhyuk had made. Sejin tended to season his dishes lightly, but there was a perfect balance between the subtle sweetness and saltiness.

Once he finished his meal, Cheon Sejoo finally checked his phone, which had piled up with messages. There was one from Moon Sunhyuk, asking for a call when he woke up, another one from Haewoong asking if he could take over the interrogation, one from Chae Beomjun asking for a favor if he had time, and the last one was from Sejin.

Mutt

– When you wake up, go to the hospital first. Your hand might rot. 

8:37 AM

Sejin had a way of saying the most alarming things over nothing.

Was he really that worried?

Cheon Sejoo stared at Sejin’s message for a moment before raising his hand to check it. The wound, where the bleeding had stopped, didn’t look that serious to him. It would probably take a week at most for it to heal without any issues, even without going to the hospital. However, remembering how Sejin had been insistent about going to the hospital ever since yesterday, Cheon Sejoo reluctantly got up and changed clothes.

Sejin was likely to ask if he’d gone to the hospital as soon as he got back from school, and if Cheon Sejoo hadn’t, he would have been subjected to a barrage of nagging that would give him a headache.

It seemed better to just go and get some medicine than to listen to that.

Convincing himself with that reasoning, Cheon Sejoo left the house.

After searching online looking for nearby hospitals, Cheon Sejoo was relieved to find a newly opened orthopedic clinic in the shopping complex below the apartment. At least he wouldn’t have to go far.

Throwing on a hoodie, a cap, and some sweatpants, Cheon Sejoo took the elevator down. He got off on the first floor, entered the corridor leading to the shopping complex, and went straight up to the clinic on the second floor.

Truly Good Korean Orthopedic Clinic.

Judging by the name, the doctor who had opened it probably graduated from Korea University’s medical school, but Cheon Sejoo didn’t consider the possibility that it was someone he knew, so he thought nothing of it as he completed the registration process.

During that time, one of the receptionists handed him a sheet of paper, asking for an autograph thinking he was a celebrity, but Cheon Sejoo politely declined. However, he accepted the coffee they offered—though it was a self-service clinic, they personally handed it to him.

“Thank you.”

When Cheon Sejoo smiled and bowed slightly, the receptionist looked like their life had just been made, and they returned to their desk in a daze.

Sipping the hot coffee, Cheon Sejoo waited for his turn. Since it was a weekday afternoon, the orthopedic clinic wasn’t very crowded, and his turn came quickly.

“Cheon Sejoo, please come in.”

When his name was called by the nurse, Cheon Sejoo stood up and walked toward the consultation room. As he walked down the narrow hallway between the reception area and the consultation rooms, his face stiffened as he caught sight of the medical staff board hanging on the wall.

There were thousands of doctors working in the medical field who had graduated from Korea University’s medical school, but of all people, it had to be someone he knew. And not just any acquaintance either…

“Mr. Cheon Sejoo?”

Ha Yeoreum.

Staring at the familiar name and photo, Cheon Sejoo pulled his cap lower over his head and opened his mouth. It seemed like it would be better if he were to visit another hospital.

“I’m sorry, but something urgent came up—”

However, before he could make his escape, the door to the consultation room suddenly swung open. Cheon Sejoo clenched his lips together and turned his head away, but the small figure who emerged from inside had already swept her eyes over him and scoffed as if she had expected this.

“Mr. Cheon Sejoo! Get in here!”

Ha Yeoreum, with an angry scowl, yelled at him before disappearing back into the room. The staff at the reception desk, startled by the sudden appearance of the doctor, hesitated for a moment, then glanced at Cheon Sejoo and pointed toward the consultation room.

“She’s… asking you to come in?”

“…”

“Come in!!”

When he didn’t respond, the voice rang out louder. Cheon Sejoo bit his lip, cursing his own carelessness. He had written down his phone number and address when he registered, so there was no way for him to escape Ha Yeoreum. If he ran away now, she would show up at his place and ring the doorbell three thousand times in 24 hours without a doubt.

F*ck…

Letting out a resigned sigh, Cheon Sejoo adjusted his cap and awkwardly stepped into the consultation room.

“Hello.”

Seated on the chair in front of the monitor, arms crossed with a frown etched on her face, Ha Yeoreum glared at Cheon Sejoo as she greeted him. Cheon Sejoo sat in the patient’s chair across from her, nodding awkwardly in her direction. He couldn’t bring himself to say hello. Seeing his half-hearted nod, Ha Yeoreum, let out a derisive laugh as if she was dumbfounded and called him out on his behavior.

“If someone greets you, shouldn’t you at least return the courtesy, Cheon Sejoo?”

“…Yeoreum-ah.”

“Oh, right. Unfortunately, I’m not doing well at all. You see, my one and only dear friend, Cheon Sejoo, disappeared without a word five years ago, cutting off all contact. I worried myself sick, wondering if he might have died somewhere with no one knowing. But does this friend even understand a fraction—no, a hundredth—of what I felt? Now that I see he’s been doing just fine all along, it feels like all those sleepless nights I spent worrying were for nothing, and it feels really unfair.”