Dae Ho cracks his eyes open, feeling woozy and his head heavy. His memories of the past events are disoriented, a hand coming up to block the light that invades his senses. The fighter groans, searching his surroundings, spotting an IV tube connected to the back of his palm. "W-who...Yoon?"
The injured man sits up, wincing at the bruises on his abdomen. He puts one hand on it, the other coming up to rub his face gently, feeling the pain relief patches and the bandages under his tender tips. "Isn't...his flight time already due? Did he not go?" Dae Ho questions himself, removing the sheet covering his body and the IV needle. He grabs his mobile phone to call Yoon, tapping his foot on the floor. "Oh...he wrapped them up too," he sighs and gives a tight smile.
"The number you've dialed is currently switched off." The automated operator announces from the other line.
Dae Ho stands up, the action blurring his vision for a moment but regaining it soon after. He takes in his surroundings, the room that usually suffocated him, feels spacious. The trash that is supposed to be sitting all over the place is nowhere to be seen and clothes are piled in his cloth bin at the corner of the room. It feels like he's in a new place. He walks to the living room, feet shuffling against the floorboards and making a light slapping sound. He stills at the condition of the space. Just like his bedroom, the living room is sparkling clean, all items put to where they belong, with a few lunch boxes placed on the coffee table.
Lastly, Dae Ho looks at the figure sleeping awkwardly on his couch. His head and upper body are covered with a cream blazer. The fighter moves towards him and taps the other's shoulder. "Yoon, why are you here? Isn't Chaeyoung waiting for you?"
The sleeping man shakes and blazer slips off and Dae Ho doubles over, shin crashing into the table behind him when he takes a step back. "H-Haneul?" He then remembers seeing the blue-head vaguely before he passed out, and that it wasn't just his imagination. But why would Haneul be at his apartment? And is he the one who wrapped him in bandages and cleaned his apartment? Dae Ho already has answers to his questions but it still doesn't convince him.
Haneul yawns and rubs his eyes before ruffling his bed hair, droopy eyes glancing at Dae Ho. He puts his head back on the backrest of the sofa but then jolts up. "Dae Ho!" He moves closer to the man to check for any injuries. "Are you alright?"
The worried expression the doctor wears sends an uneasy feeling to Dae Ho's gut. He scrambles away, shaking his head. "Why are you here? Leave!" He recovers from his initial shock, eyes narrowing into slits.
"Yoon told me what happened, don't push yours—"
"It's none of your business! I don't need your pity!" Dae Ho bellows with a hard face. He needs Haneul to leave before the shadow of his doom follows him too. ChangMin is already gone and losing another one for being involved in his life isn't something Dae Ho will allow. And if is by making Haneul resent him, so be it. For a moment he thought things may get better when Haneul let him into his apartment, but it was Dae Ho's wishful desire. The chaos would end only when he takes his last breath. And for some reason, he's made his peace with it.
"I'm not pitying you, Dae Ho. You lost someone and I'm here you provide you a shoulder to lean on."
"You weren't there when Minji died so what makes you think I need you now? I survived then and I sure can do it once again."
Haneul presses his lips into a thin line, hurt flashing through his dark orbs. "Y-you...you're right. But that doesn't mean I can't be there for you now."
"Leave before I do something we both will regret." Dae Ho presses the bridge of his nose. "I can handl—" the fighter staggers, his head spinning in circles. He falls onto the couch, shaking his head vigorously.
"How can I leave? Have you seen your state!" The doctor raves, coming up to the younger and moving his hand in the air. "You have low blood and sugar levels, a bruised body, and to top it all, a stubborn attitude!" He cards his fingers through his hair and sits adjacent to Dae Ho. "Did you get into a fight before coming home?"
"Can't call it a fight when it was one-sided. More like a beating." Dae Ho sneers with a roll of his eyes. "Just go, Haneul. You don't belong here in the streets where danger lurks at every corner."
"Neither do you."
Dae Ho laughs at the comment, clapping his hands together. "That's the thing, I'm most at peace amidst all these. Makes me feel alive." The wide smile he gives is hollow, void of emotions. "A rich snob like you, who has lived in luxury his whole life wouldn't understand. The thrill of the next unknown second is complete bliss. This place is filled with dirtbags like me, people who have nothing to lose. If you want to acquaint yourself with me, let me ask you one thing." The fighter gives a sloppy mocking grin with a tilt of his head. "Are you ready to die with me, Kim Haneul?"
Haneul sucks in a breath and looks away, the hands resting by his side curling into fists. "No, I'm not and I'll fight to survive. Do you know why?" His eyes meet the younger's, a glimmer presenting itself. "Because there are people who care about me and will be devastated if I was gone after giving up on myself. But you need to mourn for a loved one when they aren't alive anymore, it is their right."
"That's nonsense. No one would do that for me—"
"—I grieved for you for four years!" Haneul yells, his breathing picking up speed. "One second we were drinking and the other you were gone, without a trace! Do you know the agony of not confirming if someone is alive or not for so long? If I had seen your body I would've cried and suffered but would've accepted it after some time. But you weren't dead nor were you alive. Every day I looked for a sign for your state but nothing! And even after meeting years later, you give me no explanation and threaten me. Don't give me the crap about no one weeping for you when you throw the chances away when they come."
Dae Ho drops his head, eyes trained on the floor, keeping silent.
"If you truly wanted to honor Minji and ChangMin-ssi, you wouldn't be in this state." Haneul continues, his brows furrowed together. "I'm not saying it's easy but you need to accept it." He sighs, getting up and picking his coat from the couch. "I'll leave you alone but at least eat the food to replenish your energy. And if you ever need me, you know where to find me." With that, the doctor leaves, the door closing with a soft click.
Dae Ho doesn't move from the spot, guilt wafting over his insides. It's commendable how Haneul manages to leave him speechless with his outbursts every time Dae Ho riles him up, leaving something to think and ponder upon. He didn't know the other man would be grieving his disappearance for years. Or maybe he didn't want to acknowledge the idea of it since it would be harder to keep his resolve. And perhaps he'd do the same if Haneul ever dropped out of sight suddenly. It's a natural instinct, he presumes.
Dae Ho eyes the clean room and food placed on the table. He didn't even thank Haneul for what he's done and behaved unruly with him. He didn't deserve it but the fighter has always been the one to shoot down others before even weighing his options. Dae Ho draws a long breath and sinks further into the sofa, planning to sleep it off again. But the doorbell rings and he begrudgingly moves to open the door.
"Since you're an insufferable brat, I assume you wouldn't be eating," Haneul says, pushing Dae Ho to enter inside once again. "Just eat the damn food and I'll be on my way." He sits back on the couch and folds his arms over his chest, eyes signaling the younger to sit and eat. And Dae Ho does so silently. He kneels on the floor and settles down, taking the chopsticks and plate placed on the table. He first opens all the lids, revealing tofu stew, bibimbap, steamed rice, fried chicken, and galbi, along with kimchi and seaweed sheets as side dishes. The food isn't hot or even warm but Dae Ho doesn't remember a time he was ever picky.
"I asked eomma to make the food just the way you like, so finish it all," Haneul commands with a sigh. "Although I hope she doesn't remember that specific detail or else she'll be suspicious."
Dae Ho licks his lips in anticipation, a query at the top of his tongue. "How...how is she?" The woman had helped him build a career, supported him when he didn't know a thing about modeling. She was strict but knew when to cut some slack. Outside of work, the CEO greeted him with smiles and affection, treating him like family.
"The last time we talked about you, she asked me to bring you to her so she could teach you a lesson for disappearing into thin air."
And if the situation had been better, the two men would've laughed about her antics, thrown in a joke or two themselves. But their roles have changed, their relationship seeming familiar for an instance but a complete flip over most of the time. The only civil conversation they had was at Haneul's place.
Dae Ho takes a piece of meat and puts it in his mouth, chewing it and relishing the taste of overpowered soy sauce and pepper with a hint of garlic. It's just as he remembers tasting the food whenever he visited the Kim's, spicy yet tender. Kim Yoona usually cooked dinner since her husband did not like eating food made at the hands of a chef. Dae Ho swallows the galbi but his throat feels clogged. Even the spoon of soup he tries next doesn't help. Or the morsel of rice and chicken after it. It's the thoughtfulness the man in front of him has, amazes him. Haneul is a strange one, always doing what he wants yet pleasing the people around him.
The food not only fills Dae Ho's stomach but also comforts him. He doesn't stop eating even when silent tears make their way down his cheeks, soft sniffles escaping in between. The hand holding chopsticks pick up speed, finding whatever in its path and eating it, trying to suppress the cries. It's a way to keep his emotions at bay. He chokes, throwing a coughing fit till a glass of water is pushed towards him, a hand patting his back.
"It's okay, let it all out," Haneul consoles rubbing circles. "You're not alone." His tone is just as when he had comforted Dae Ho after his grandmother's death. The doctor slips to the floor too, providing an unspoken solace after Dae Ho tears into loud sobs. He pulls him closer to him.
The chopsticks between the fighter's fingers fall, his hands coming up to cover his face. He then cries without care, mourning the loss of a close friend. A companion that kept him rooted for years, a figure that guided him during his dark times. ChangMin's absence couldn't be filled in by another, a void that'll remain for as long as Dae Ho lives. He buries his head in his knees and pulls them close to his body just as Haneul's hand moves to his shoulder and presses lightly. They stay in the same position until Dae Ho ceases crying, wiping his tears with the heels of his palms. He doesn't raise his head but speaks softly.
"...Ch-ChangMin-ssi was the first person after Minji's d-death that I let in...and he's gone...just like her. Tell me something, Haneul," the fighter turns to said man, his puffed-up face, and red-rimmed eyes meeting the others. "Tell me why everyone close to me dies?"
Haneul has no answer for him, what can he even tell him.
"Haelmoni...M-Minji and now Ch-ChangMin-ssi. Who's next?" Dae Ho feels his pulse in his throat, tears behind his eyelids. "Y-You don't understand my fears, why I ask you to stay away. I'm a black cat from superstitions, but only that I'm real." For an outsider's eyes, the concerns and complains Dae Ho has may seem trivial, even childlike. He repeats the same words over and over again upon his encounters with Haneul. Death is inevitable and it comes for all, young or old, rich or poor. It is fair to all, without any conditions. And the fighter is well aware, but it's the traumatizing manner his loved ones have departed that makes him fearful. The short goodbyes that passed in a blink of an eye and the regret of not being enough to protect them.
"Who is going to die next? You?" Dae Ho berates. "I don't want that. So, please stay away from me."
"Do you know what 'kintsugi' is?" Haneul asks with a reassuring smile, his eyes gentle.
"Huh?"
"In Japan, it's called the art of golden healing where broken pottery is repaired by joining its pieces through laquer mixed with powdered gold. But even when they're fixed, their cracks remain, but they shine. They're not flawless but there's a strange beauty to them, a unique quality that makes you want to have one." The doctor explains, hands gesturing as if a vase is in his hands.
"And you're telling this because?"
"Because I believe you to be one such piece, broken yet gold. And gold is always valuable, no matter what form it takes."
"You're a smooth talker since the start, but do you really think I'll believe them?" Dae Ho scoffs shaking his head. "It's easier said than done."
"Of course I know you wouldn't believe me but I need to say what I mean. Feeling about someone or yourself depends on one's perspective. Because of everything that has happened with you, you see yourself as weak, someone that needs to perish or must live in agony as a punishment, to atone for your shortcomings. But for me, you're stronger than anyone I know, someone worth saving, to fight tooth and nail for. And that's due to the very events that you had to go through in life."
Once again, a smooth talker. And Haneul leaves Dae Ho tongue-tied, winning their argument as he usually does.