Jisung used to hate singing love songs. Idealistic and cloying, the lyrics felt like lies. Lately though, when he plays guitar, he can't help but be drawn to them. Maybe it's because his own music isn't feeling so safe anymore. Not so familiar, not so his. They serve as a reminder too. Of him. Really everything does.
Their phone call from this morning hurts somewhere deep down in Jisung's chest, a place that hasn't been touched till now. He thought he had felt pain everywhere possible, every nook and cranny, but Minho managed to find uncharted territory. He wants to reach inside and hold it in his hands until the pain fades and he can forget.
He's been sitting on the grass in front of the grocery store, playing all morning. About five dollars has accumulated in his hat. The passersby have split their attention between Jisung and the gentleman sitting across from him. The man is swaying to the rhythm, stroking the gnarled tabby in his lap.
Jisung is on the last verse of 'I'll Wait Forever' — one of his grandfather's favourites — and his breath is running out. He folds forward with his face in his hands. He was up all night working. He's barely slept for a week. Every time he does, the Light consumes him, he loses his body, feels Minho's presence — and wakes up in the hallway or out on the front lawn (thankfully never farther than that).
"You okay, fella?" It's the man across from him. His eyes are deep and wrinkled and kind.
"Yeah, fine."
He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, holds it out to Jisung, an offering. Jisung declines.
He tucks it back into his pocket. "Let me guess. Woman troubles?"
Jisung laughs quietly. "Sure."
"Take it from me, whatever you did, just apologize. Get her some flowers, they always love flowers."
"Thanks for the advice." Jisung starts another song. 'Are You Lonesome Tonight?' His grandfather hated this one.
The gentleman resumes his swaying. "That's a nice guitar you got there."
"I know. It was a gift. Nice cat you got there."
"Ah she's a sweetheart." He pets her head and she hisses.
Jisung plays for the man and his cat for the rest of the morning. Eventually he stands, empties his hat and gives the change to the man. The two shake hands, and Jisung makes his way home.
It's nearly noon when he gets back. He makes lunch and joins Nini in her bedroom. Barely a moment goes by before she asks what's bothering him.
He just shrugs.
"Han Jisung, a shrug is not an answer."
He sighs. He doesn't want to lie but he doesn't want to tell the truth either. "He called this morning, when I was at the site. While we were talking, um, something happened, and his niece got hurt. She's in the hospital now. Because of us. He said we shouldn't talk anymore."
Nini chews on that for a moment. "That may be wise."
"You think so?"
"You don't?"
Jisung pokes at his spaghetti, starting and stopping and choosing his words. "I just... I don't want to not talk anymore."
"Little, this whole thing is bonkers, but that bruise on your head says it's dangerous too. Whatever has come over you two, I'd prefer you part ways now instead of hurting each other later."
"But... I don't want to not talk anymore."
She clucks her tongue and pats him gently on the head. "I'm sorry it has to end this way. Think of his niece."
He nods and looks away. Of course he wants Hara to be okay. He thinks about her staring up at him with big shiny eyes and clutching at his sleeve. It nearly makes him smile. She liked him a lot. Like she was a sunflower and he was the sun. Like she wanted to be closer to him, to his... energy.
"Hm," he murmurs. "Nini, do you think I could... heal Hara, if I tried?"
"I'm just not sure. That's what your situation is about, isn't it? Life and healing and such?"
"I guess. Whenever I went to Minho's house, it felt like... like stepping into a shadow. Like the opposite of what was inside me. What if me and Minho each have, you know, energies, whatever, and it affects the things and people around us? If Minho's energy is negatively affecting Hara, maybe I can help somehow. Maybe I could try with the house itself too."
"Heal a house?"
"Yeah. I mean, everything is alive, right?"
She shrugs.
"I think I'm gonna do it," he says. "Try, at least. I'll go later today."
"You're sure you won't run into mister-mister?"
"Um." Jisung rubs his arm. "Yeah. I'm sure."
They eat in silence for a moment. Then Nini says, "Your energies... you really think they affect the people around you?"
"They must. Hara is proof of it." He laughs. "Hey, maybe I'm the reason you still have both your original hips. You're welcome, Nini."
She gives him a smile. "Thanks... Little."
—
Jisung has two options. The first is Great River General, the biggest hospital in the city, where he's headed now.
He hates it there. It's where Nini went when she had an ulcer and six-year-old Jisung had to wait in a piss-soaked playroom for hours. Where Jisung went when he had his first panic attack and thought he was dying. Where an empty-eyed doctor told him his grandfather had 'succumbed.' Naturally, to his animal brain, Great River isn't so much a hospital as a place where bad things get worse.
He quickly walks in and asks the front desk whether Heo Hara of the Lee family has been admitted. The receptionist says she hasn't. Jisung leaves in a hurry and locks his bubbling emotions away in a box labeled do not open.
His second option is Paradise Community Clinic on the other side of the city. Paradise is where the rich folks go, according to Nini. He doesn't know much about it except what he read in the newspaper about them refusing to care for people who had abortions. He goes in with a chip on his shoulder.
Again he asks the front desk for Heo Hara. This time the receptionist asks for his name, then picks up the phone and speaks quietly into the receiver. Jisung waits, rocking back and forth on his feet. Then she says "Go ahead, Mr. Han. Level four, room twelve."
He says thank you and shuffles to the elevator. His palms are starting to sweat. He feels like a stalker, running around the city, looking for the Lees. He isn't a friend or associate, pretty much just a guitar-plucking liability. But if he has the ability to heal, he isn't going to sit on it and let Hara suffer... He is nervous to see Mr. Lee though. He's not sure if he has the strength of mind at the moment.
He gets off on the fourth floor and wanders the hallway till he finds room 12. He takes a breath and knocks tentatively.
Mrs. Lee opens the door. Her mascara is streaked down her cheeks, a handkerchief clutched in her hands. Jisung can see Minho in the shape of her face, though her eyes are nothing like his. If she's ever been vulnerable, ever felt shame — she's hidden it deep.
She recognizes him instantly.
"You," she says.
"Hi, Mrs. Lee. I heard Hara is sick, I wanted to see how she's doing."
"You're the... one from..."
Sooyun comes up and gently moves her mother out of the doorway. "You're sweet for worrying, Jisung. Isn't he, Mother?"
She clutches her handkerchief.
Sooyun sighs, glances up at Jisung, giving him a small smile. "Come in."
He walks past them, into the room. Haewon is propped up on a bed with Hara asleep in her arms. She's less made-up than usual, hair in a ponytail, wearing sweats and a hoodie. Her husband is sitting in a chair, looking uncomfortable with a suitcase of toys on his lap.
Haewon notices Jisung and smiles widely, waving with the tips of her fingers. Jisung pulls up a chair next to the bed.
"You have good timing," she says. "Father's out getting dinner."
He smiles, pretending to wipe the sweat from his forehead. "How is she? What happened?"
"Her throat started closing up out of nowhere. They stuck this thing on her face, a nebulizer or something, which worked fine — until it didn't. She's been up and down all day. They gave her a sedative and she finally went to sleep."
"She's not stable yet?"
"No. They think she has asthma, the 'severe' kind. Something must have triggered it."
Jisung looks down at her little face. She doesn't look peaceful, even in sleep. He can hear her breathe. He feels awful for causing her pain.
He's about to ask to hold her, but Haewon speaks first.
"So... did you hear about her from Minho?"
"Yeah, I did. We, uh, we were speaking on the phone when it happened, actually."
"Oh. Well. He didn't come to the hospital with us. He hasn't come all day."
She seems hurt by that. Jisung has no idea what to say; Minho is right to stay away, his presence would only make everything worse.
"He sounded worried last time we spoke," Jisung says. "Of course he's worried — more than worried. Maybe he just... I don't know. It's hard to get in his head sometimes."
"You're right about that." She sighs and looks down at Hara.
"How are you holding up?" he asks.
"I... I don't know. I'm afraid that it'll happen again. That it could be worse than the first time." Her arms tighten around her daughter. "I have no idea what's hurting her. It has to be my fault."
"No, it's not," Jisung says quickly, maybe too loudly. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"We haven't made sure of that yet," Sooyun says from across the room. "We're going to index all your perfumes, research toxicity, test your breast milk—"
"Sooyun, we have company," Haewon says, flushing.
Mrs. Lee dabs at her eyes. "I told you she should have been baptized."
"Mother."
Jisung puts his hand on Haewon's arm. "This is not your fault. I promise you. May I hold Hara?"
Haewon looks reluctant, but gently passes her into his arms. Jisung holds her close, hoping not to disturb her.
And... holy shit.
He can hear, smell, taste it. He can feel it radiating against his chest. This little thing in his arms, she has Death in her.
He knows what to do. Again the knowledge seems to be rooted in him. He draws a breath of acid, filling his lungs, filling every gap. His veins ache, coursing with thick, slow blood.
The feeling of Death settles in his chest, a coat of iron against his heart.
"Are you okay?" Haewon is looking at him, concerned.
He tries to assure her with a smile. Everything in his body is fighting the Death the way an immune system might fight a virus. It feels like so many small wars happening inside him.
"Yeah, of course, I'm fine. Sorry, I should go." He gets up to pass the baby back to Haewon. "She'll be okay, I'm sure of it. I'll be thinking about you two."
She smiles up at him and squeezes his hand.
He nods to Mrs. Lee and Sooyun and leaves the room. As he steps out of the elevator in the lobby, he sees Mr. Lee walking toward him, a few men on his heels, carrying trays of food. Neither party stops for hellos.
The weight is falling deeper, so deep it might become a part of him, a slowly-consuming parasite. He runs through the garden, to the boulevard, kneels in a strip of turf and splays his hands on the ground. Molasses moves through his veins again. His eyes squeeze shut as his lungs contract and bile rises in his throat.
When he opens his eyes, the grass is brown beneath his fingers.