SANN | Chapter 9.3

Leaning back in his chair with arms crossed, Sieon tapped his crossed leg idly.

For the therapy session, he’d chosen a hospital where he had connections—technically, his family had the connection, not him. Still, Sieon had reassured Gureum, saying it was a doctor his older brother knew well and that Gureum could feel at ease. Gureum seemed relieved that it was someone Sieon knew rather than a complete stranger.

Bravely, Gureum entered the consultation room alone. Though it was only for a short while, the idea of Gureum conversing with someone else made Sieon feel irritated. For a brief moment, he regretted quitting his own medical studies after earning just a general medical license. Not that he would’ve made a great psychiatrist, given his lack of empathy, but the thought still crossed his mind. Clicking his tongue in frustration, he sighed.

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What bothered Sieon more was the unease of leaving Gureum alone in a vulnerable situation. If he were honest, though, the real issue was that it simply didn’t feel good. It was a rare emotion for him to experience, and his brows furrowed deeply as he tried to make sense of it.

Before the session, Gureum had to fill out a preliminary questionnaire for the initial diagnosis. Out of about twenty items, Gureum’s symptoms matched more than half.

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Sieon’s face darkened as he watched from the side. Gureum, noticing Sieon’s expression, hesitated with the pen, his embarrassment palpable. Sensing this, Sieon softened his tense expression and gently ruffled Gureum’s hair.

“Be honest when you fill it out,” Sieon said calmly.

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“…Okay…” Gureum murmured.

Encouraged by Sieon’s words, Gureum picked up the pen again and completed the remaining questions.

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After completing the initial evaluation, Sieon had a brief discussion with the doctor. Gureum’s condition was far more severe than he had anticipated. Sieon stared blankly at the doctor’s monitor, where a list of diagnoses scrolled before his eyes—terms he hadn’t seen since his med school days.

The primary diagnoses were Social Anxiety Disorder and Panic Disorder. Beyond these, a slew of other minor symptoms had woven themselves tightly into Gureum’s fragile psyche, creating a tangled mess.

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The mere thought of soothing this battered heart and embarking on the long road to healing felt overwhelming. Sieon couldn’t help but recall the first Maze Queen broadcast. Back then, he had written Gureum off as exhausting to deal with, but now, realizing that Gureum might have been in a state of panic at the time, a cold shiver ran down his spine.

He also remembered the days when this little one had braved public transportation just to meet him. How much courage must Gureum have mustered to come see him? The thought made Sieon feel unexpectedly tender toward Gureum.

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Gureum, on the other hand, seemed deflated, as though the objective analysis of his psychological state had made him shrink into himself. Sieon, seeing this, pulled Gureum into a tight hug and pressed a kiss against his soft cheek.

“Things will get better from now on. You’ve got me by your side, don’t you?” Sieon reassured.

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“…Yeah. You’re right…” Gureum replied, his lips pressed into a tight line. For someone who cared so much about him, Gureum felt a sudden surge of determination to be brave.

The doctor was a kind-looking, gentle man, but Gureum couldn’t hide his nerves. His trembling hands were clenched tightly as he answered the questions. The doctor, with his calm demeanor and warm tone, skillfully guided Gureum to open up, showing no discomfort in handling patients like him.

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As the session progressed, Gureum’s tension gradually melted away. By the end of the consultation, his shaking had completely stopped. When the doctor mentioned they would meet again to continue their discussions, Gureum nodded enthusiastically. Just as Sieon had said, this doctor seemed truly exceptional.

With a mixture of nervousness and relief, Gureum gripped the doorknob of the consultation room. In the brief moment before he stepped out, countless thoughts raced through his mind.

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What if Sieon wasn’t there when I walk out? What if he left me behind? What if my damaged heart made him dislike me…?

But Sieon was there, waiting in the exact spot he’d promised to stay. He greeted Gureum with a proud smile, as if to say, You did great.

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That expression nearly brought Gureum to tears right there in the hospital waiting room.

For the first time in his life, Gureum had someone he could lean on. His entire chest filled to the brim with emotions he couldn’t even begin to name.

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On the way home from the hospital, winter rain drizzled softly against the car windows. Gureum quietly rolled up the slightly open window, sealing it tightly. He hummed along to some nameless tune playing in the car.

“You’re in a good mood, kid.”

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“Huh…? Am I being too noisy?”

“Not at all.”

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Sieon chuckled softly, mimicking Gureum’s tone, then naturally moved the hand resting on the gear shift to clasp Gureum’s hand.

“You said earlier you wanted pasta, right?”

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“Yes…”

“Guess your hyung has to show off his skills again.”

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Normally, their meals were prepared by staff ahead of time, but Gureum would sometimes crave the food Sieon made himself. Though Gureum wasn’t the type to outright ask for it, Sieon had a knack for figuring out what Gureum wanted without needing words.

Sieon often made an effort to introduce Gureum to various types of food. Whether it was his own cooking, street food bought outside, or even delivery meals, he made sure Gureum got to experience a range of flavors. It wasn’t just about giving him the best; he wanted Gureum to try the things that most people ate in their daily lives. There was a reason behind this.

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One late evening, after a simple walk with Gureum, Sieon had seen a delivery worker sprinting past, carrying the fragrant aroma of fried chicken. Gureum’s wide eyes followed the worker, so Sieon had asked if he wanted some chicken. At the time, Gureum had looked up at him in surprise and said something that left Sieon deeply shocked.

“Is this what chicken smells like? I’ve never had it before…”

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The words had struck Sieon harder than he expected. While he was known for having a finicky, high-class palate, he’d at least eaten chicken before. That very night, Sieon opened a delivery app and ordered chicken as soon as they got home. He gave Gureum both drumsticks and wings, leaving none for himself. Gureum, not knowing which parts were the best, quietly ate whatever Sieon handed him.

Thanks to Sieon, Gureum came to realize just how many delicious foods existed in the world. Compared to his past days of simple stews and side dishes, his culinary experience had taken a giant leap forward.

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Gureum remembered those old days—hastily cooking meals, scarfing them down quickly, and barely managing one meal a day. Inevitably, his father came to mind. The thought caught him off guard, pulling him back from the happiness he’d been wrapped up in during his time with Sieon.

“Hey, hyung… about…”

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“Hmm?”

“How’s my father… doing?”

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“…Ah.”

Sieon paused for a moment before answering as briefly as possible.

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“He’s doing fine. The manager I work with is taking care of him.”

“Oh… Thank you. I haven’t been able to check on him…”

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“You don’t need to worry about it. Hyung will handle it. …But it seems like he still can’t quit drinking.”

“…That’s expected… He’s heavily addicted…”

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Sieon deliberately brought up the topic of drinking. It was the perfect excuse for whatever might happen in the future. Alcohol and gambling—easy scapegoats, as Park, the manager, had once described them. A type that could be dealt with discreetly, without a trace.

Speaking of Park, he had mentioned securing some “supplies” and suggested Sieon visit the club. Sieon trusted the man, so he’d told him to go ahead for now and that he’d check in later. Drumming his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, Sieon figured it was about time to pay that visit.

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“Gureum… Hmm. Never mind.”

Whatever Sieon had been about to say was swallowed back, his lips closing as quickly as they’d opened.

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“…Yes? Were you calling me?”

Gureum turned to him with wide, curious eyes. Sieon smiled casually, shaking his head.

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“Nope, nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

It was still too early to tell the kid about the club business. That would come later—when they were closer, when Gureum trusted and relied on him even more. Until then, Sieon decided to keep it under wraps.

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Since the club wasn’t open for business, there was no thumping music inside. Sieon, hands jauntily in his pants pockets, burst open the door to the room. Immediately, shouts broke out.

“Ah…!”

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“Fuck, what the hell.”

The spacious room was a mess. A pungent, sticky stench filled the air. There was an orgy going on, with one debauchery here and another there.

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“Ah! Ah! Oh, boss…”

One of the guys, thoroughly occupied, desperately reached out to Sieon as if he recognized him from hole number two. Sieon ignored the man’s call and strode with large steps toward Manager Park, shoving down everyone who was exposing their backsides.

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“Oh, boss, you’re already here?”

“Get rid of these guys.”

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Sieon gestured towards the group busily grinding away. Manager Park chuckled slyly.

“Ah, come on. You know you like this kind of atmosphere. I called them over just for you.”

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Before Park could finish, one of the men Sieon had pushed to the floor grabbed at his pants. The man humbly knelt down and subtly tried to unbuckle Sieon’s belt. Sieon responded with a swift slap, sending the man collapsing to the ground, blood streaming from his nose. Manager Park was taken aback by this unexpected action.

“Since when do you touch without permission?”

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“Uh, so-sorry…”

“Forget it. I’m not in the mood.”

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“…Yes.”

The group huddled on the sofa shuffled away at Sieon’s stern look.

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In contrast, Manager Park stood there with his mouth agape, stunned. Sieon lifted his glass of liquor, glancing at Park, then shook it as if to ask if he was okay. Park nodded. Sieon, clicking his tongue, set his glass down and got straight to business, ignoring the stunned manager.

“Spit it out, I have to go soon.”

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“Ah, right, you came for that.”

Regaining his composure, Park gathered scattered documents from the table.

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“This is personal information, and this bottle here is a sample. We sourced it from Southeast Asia. It’s not a drug, but it was tough to get since there’s not much demand for it.”

“Hm.”

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“When mixed with alcohol, it’s completely untraceable. No smell.”

“Good job.”

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Sieon nodded slightly. Park, noticing Sieon’s mood, began to spill more details with a grin.

“Haha. Actually, I was curious and did a home visit beforehand. I wanted to see what kind of mess you were getting into. But damn, that household is a real disaster… I nearly threw up.”

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Park grimaced as if he was about to vomit.

“Anyway. That guy? He was an easy mark. Just show a little sympathy, and he spills everything. Heard he lived with his son until recently, you know? His wife ran off, or something like that. He was furious…”

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“The son. I know. I’m not interested in that.”

“Ah, why would I care about that stuff? I was just curious about the whole situation, hahahaha.”

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Quick-witted bastard. Instead of a drink, Sieon took out a cigarette.