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Sang-woo’s been missing for 3 weeks.
Or so, his mother informs Gi-hun when he dropped by her shop one afternoon after work. Visiting the older woman out of habit after decades of knowing her.
“It’s just,” She whines, packing anchovies in a dark bag. “He never forgets to call, and the last time we did... oh Gi-hun, my poor Sang-woo sounded so sad.”
Gi-hun’s not surprised, someone as busy as the pride and joy of Ssangmun-dong wasn't going to irradiate rainbows and good vibes every day. However, he understands her concern, because a mother's instinct wasn't one to be questioned.
He grabs the bag and hands her 10,000 won, smiling. “Keep the change, and if you want, I can drop by his apartment later to check on him.”
Sang-woo’s mother's eyes shine at his proposal, a big and contagious smile blooming in her tired factions. “Oh! Thank you, Gi-hun-ssi, you've always been so good to my boy.”
“It’s nothing, Mrs. Cho,” Gi-hun reassures her, brushing it off. “I’ll take some takeaway from downtown before going, you know Sang-woo will never say no if you persuade him with food.”
She laughs and bows towards Gi-hun, the younger man shaking his hands in a clear attempt to stop her. She thanks him again and he's then on his merry way, leaving the anchovies at his mother's house before driving back to his favorite restaurant.
After buying everything he needed, Gi-hun leaves a few messages on Sang-woo’s chat, informing him of his visit. Knowing the younger man won't reply, Gi-hun drives to Sang-woo’s apartment complex.
The several bags of takeaway feel heavy on Gi Hun’s hand, the tip of his polished shoes pressed against the door to Sang Woo’s apartment.
Taking a deep breath, Gi-hun rings the bell, balancing on his heels as he waited for an answer. “Sang-woo-ah, are you home?”
Silence answers him, and Gi-hun can´t help feeling uneasy at how quiet the entire floor is, because Sang-woo wasn´t one to simply ignore someone calling at his front door.
He’d yell for them to fuck off at least.
Just when the bomb his anxiety was started ticking in a faster tempo, footsteps are heard from inside the apartment.
“Who’s there?” Sang-woo asks, slurring the last word, Gi-hun worriedly notices.
Gi-hun adjusts the weight of the yellow bags between both hands, smiling despite Sang-woo can´t see him. “It’s hyung, Sang-woo, can I come in?”
A soft thump surprises him, Sang-woo’s voice muffled by the wooden door following it, “I’m sorry hyung…”
“What do you mean ‘sorry’? Is everything okay?”
Sang-woo scoffs, letting his forehead smash against the door. “No, on the contrary, hyung. Nothing’s okay.”
His palms beginning to sweat, Gi-hun tries to stabilize himself. “Sang-woo-ah, can you open the door? Maybe… maybe we can talk about this.”
“About what?!” Sang-woo shouts, his voice is shattered and raspy. “About how fucked up I am right now? How my life just keeps falling apart? Just leave me the fuck alone, Gi-hun, for once in your life.”
Gi-hun’s blood runs cold as words continue to slip off Sang-woo’s mouth, finally tying up the dots amongst the recent events. “Sang-woo, I’m begging you, I just want to make sure you’re okay, your mother is so –“
“I don’t care,” The younger man declares gloomily, “I don’t care about anything anymore.”
“Sang-woo-ah, please let me –“
“Don’t foolishly hold on, hyung,” Came the weak response from Sang-woo, the volume of his voice reducing drastically. “Just let me go.” He murmured before the sound of a body dropping resonated in the empty hallway.
“Sang-woo!”
Gi-un opens the door as fast as he can, dropping the bags of takeaway on the floor while he struggled with the lock and the weight of Sang-woo’s deadweight against it.
He ultimately enters the apartment through the tiny space he could manage to crack open. Sang-woo’s body comes in clear view underneath his eyes, he’s completely wet; clothes and hair; and there’s an unsettling smell in the property that triggers a well-hidden memory in Gi-hun’s mind.
Covering his nose and lips with the sleeve of his flannel, Gi-hun trots to the bathroom, from where an almost translucent smoke emerges. What he finds, makes his knees buckle, causing him to hold onto the pristine wall so he won’t fall.
Burnt coal briquettes lay in a frying pan on the floor, surrounded by numerous empty bottles of Soju, stepped-on cigarettes, and an unused blade.
“Fuck, oh fuck no –“ He stutters, running back to Sang Woo’s motionless form on the floor. “Sang-woo-ah, Cho Sang-woo!”
Gi-hun props Sang-woo’s head against him, whimpering when his head lolled side to side limply. In his despair, Gi-hun starts shouting. “Help! Somebody call an ambulance!”
Aware of the increasing risk it meant for the man in his arms staying in a still poisonous room, Gi-hun wraps his arms under Sang-woo’s shoulders, dragging him outside the apartment in a long grunt, finally collapsing in the middle of the hallway with the younger man’s upper body on top of him.
Openly sobbing, Gi-hun cradles his body close, rocking them back and forth as apologies slip out of his mouth. The noise makes a teenager peek from inside a nearby apartment, his eyes widening before dialing emergency services in complete silence.
“Sang-woo-ah,” Gi-hun brokenly murmurs, wiping the wetness on Cho’s face with his sleeve. “Please don’t leave me, please don’t…”
The paramedic crew arrived 15 minutes later, loading an unresponsive Sang-woo into the ambulance on the first floor, Gi-hun running after them as he dialed the younger man’s mother between sobs and hiccups, poorly explaining the situation. And when the paramedics asked him if he wants to ride with them, he climbs without hesitation, holding Sang-woo’s hand immediately after.
The trip to the Hospital fees eternal, even more, when all he can hear are medical concepts he can’t understand. Eventually, they arrive at the Emergency entrance of Asan Medical Center, a group of Doctors already waiting for them.
Gi-hun witnesses an intern climbing on top of Sang-woo on the stretcher, starting to perform chest compressions as they ran inside the building shouting. The older man doesn’t even have the strength to run after them, his knees locking in place.
“Sir?” A nurse’s voice calls him, her hand laying gently on his upper arm. “Please come with me, I need you to fill in some documents.”
Gi-hun’s allows her to guide him to a small office beside the waiting area, several documents handed to him. He writes Sang-woo’s information as if it were his own, horrible calligraphy proving how desperate he was to finish with it as soon as possible.
When he’s done, he doesn’t listen to the woman’s voice and races towards the waiting room, dropping onto one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs in there, letting his head fall onto his hands.
30 minutes later, an elderly voice enters the room, screaming. “Gi-hun?! Seong Gi-hun!”
He gets on his feet in seconds, racing to Sang-woo’s mother. “Mrs. Cho, thank God,” Gi-hun breathlessly says, putting his hand on his chest.
“Gi-hun-ssi, what happened? How is my boy?” The woman asks, her eyes watering in fear and confusion.
The named shakes his head, offering his hand to the older lady so they can walk together, but she ignores him completely.
Gi-hun walks to his previous seat, Sang-woo’s mother on his heels, seating beside him as they waited for answers. Gi-hun can feel how the tension thickens within them but blames it on the shared worry they have for the youngest Cho.
Ignoring the bad feeling on his stomach, all Gi-hun can do now is wait.
A Doctor finally appears before them no longer than 2 hours later, holding a clipboard under his shoulder, a stoic expression on his face.
“Family of Cho Sang-woo?”
Sang-woo’s mother jumps at the calling, not giving Gi-hun the time to pull himself together. “He’s my son, how is he? What happened to him?”
They're taken to the outside of a private room in the Intensive Care Unit, the fact no words were spoken to them making their hearts beat at twice their speed.
“Mr. Cho Sang-woo was admitted to the Emergency Room in a state of heart failure,” The Doctor begins, Sang-woo’s mother gasping at his words. “Fortunately, our personal was capable of stabilizing him and examine further his condition.”
Gi-hun lays his hand on her shoulder, bracing for the worst. “We concluded, from what Mr. Seong Gi-hun informed our staff and the test we practiced on him, the patient is suffering from a severe case of carbon monoxide poisoning.”
“W-What –”, Sang-woo’s mother chokes, putting her hand to her lips. “What does that mean? Was his apartment in flames, Gi-hun? That's what it means?” She asks looking directly at Gi-hun, the latter frozen at her questions.
“Not exactly, ma'am,” Doctor Park interrupts her, gaining her attention back. “I’m sorry to inform you, but your son was poisoned due to a suicide attempt. He burned coal briquettes in a frying pan in his residency, a confined space with the clear intention of ending his life.”
In denial, the elderly woman turns to Gi-hun, punching his chest with her closed hands, exclaiming, “What kind of friend are you?!” She continues to hit him, Doctor Park uselessly attempting to stop her. “Didn’t you love my Sang-woo so much you'd look after him for the rest of your days?!”
“Mrs. Cho –” Gi-hun whimpers, the woman's hand slapping him hard silencing him.
“You said you'll protect him from all evil, how could you dare to break your promise to him? To me?”
Gi-hun holds his reddened cheek in his hand, staring at the woman with teary eyes.
“Ma’am, I'm going to ask you to leave, you can't alterate the order in this area.” Doctor Park, backed up with security guards, politely asks.
The woman huffs offended and turns on her heels, leaving the Hospital.
“Mr. Seong,” The physician addresses him, an understanding look in his eyes welcoming him. “I must inform you your...” He trails off, looking for the correct term.
Aware they'll kick his ass from the Hospital if they find out he was just a friend, Gi-hun decides to lie, “My fiance.”
“...Your fiance,” He continues, “Is in a critical condition. The time he was exposed to the toxic gases, as well as the dangerous levels of alcohol in his system has created what we catalog ‘a deadly combo’, and everything we could do was induce him into a coma, connecting him to a respirator to give his body time to heal itself.”
Gi-hun’s heart threatens to jump off his chest, anxiety, and fear alike dominating his system. “But will he make it? Is he going to survive?”
Doctor Park sighs, scratching his neck. “It’s too early to know, Mr. Seong. I'm afraid only time will tell.”
The older man nods, wiping a solitary tear on his right eye. The Doctor gives him an understanding smile, grabbing the knob of the door and twisting it, gesturing him inside.
“You can stay with him as long as you please, the residents will pay periodic visits to your fiance every few hours to check his vitals.” And with that, he's gone.
Gi-hun walks the short steps that separate the entrance and the bed where Sang-woo lays. He heavily sits and runs his hand through his disheveled hair.
“Oh, Sang-woo,” Gi-hun murmurs, feeling numb. “What have you done?”
Gi-hun doesn't sleep that night.
On the following morning, Gi-hun is still sitting beside Sang-woo’s still body, his eyes lost on an inexistent point of the room. The aching desire of taking the younger’s hand between his makes him want to cry; an overwhelming sense of guilt impeding it. So he just lays his palms on his thighs, gently rubbing them back and forth, not well-knowing what else to do during this endless agony.
The door opens and Sang-woo’s mother’s distinguishable footsteps resonate on his back, but Gi-hun doesn’t have the strength, nor the courage to face the woman, her reprimand remaining to haunt him in the darkest areas of his sanity.
“Hi, Gi-hun,” She greets, passing beside him and taking a seat on the opposite side of the bed. “I brought you some coffee, the nurse told me you’ve been here all night.”
She’s just being polite. She’s still resented. She still blames you.
Gi-hun clears his throat, an undetected lump in it making him wince. “I’m alright, thanks though.” He attempts to smile, Mrs. Cho’s confused look vanishing the false gentility on her expression.
They stay in silence for what feels like forever, the only thing that connected them laying between their seated bodies. At that moment, Gi-hun regretted not charging his phone during the night. The woman’s sharp gaze burns him like an alkaline; even with his attention fully laid upon Sang-woo, he remains to sense her stare.
“I don’t blame you,” She says after a while, finally causing Gi-hun to look at her. “I know you feel like I do, but I don’t, Gi-hun.”
Seong’s mouth opens and closes repeatedly, attempting to find the words to properly answer her declaration, but his throat is suddenly dry, and no speech seems to efficiently come out from his constricted chest.
She appears to notice it since she gets up from her chair and drags it to his right side. The woman takes a seat again and gently slides her hand on top of Gi-hun’s, which was tightly gripping the armrest. Gi-hun instantly accepts the small comfort, linking their hands together and resting his left on the union, smiling as tears start to gather in his eyes.
“You’ve done so much for him over the last few years, Gi-hun,” He shakes his head, closing his eyes and swallowing down a sob. “You have saved his life more times than I can recall, sometimes without none of us being able to notice it.”
Freely tearing up now, Gi-hun turns and takes a glimpse of Sang-woo; the tube down his throat assisting his current respiratory depression, the so unfamiliar paleness of his body. He looked like a corpse, far from the Doctor’s allegations that he looked more alive than an average suicide attempt survivor.
“I don’t want to lose him,” The long-haired sobs, gripping her hand tighter, her thumb slowly rubbing circles on the back of his. “Fuck, I could’ve lost him. If I- If I didn’t arrive at the moment I did he could’ve-“
“Shhh,” She hushes him, her free hand wiping away the shameless tears on his cheeks. “But you didn’t, we didn’t. We have another chance to amend our mistake; to not fail him again, okay?”
Gi-hun nods, and when the sobbing finally subsides, he doesn’t let go of her hand.
5 days pass by, and Gi-hun feels as if he’s on the verge of losing his sanity. Sang-woo has flatlined on three occasions, and every time it happened, security had to drag him out of the room to let the innumerable Doctors do their job without the older man being a hindrance.
Sitting inside his car as heavy rain poured from the dark sky, Gi-hun sighs, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to not cry once again. He wondered while looking into the distance if this was some sort of trial by God to prove his devotion towards the younger man.
Gi-hun slowly gets out of the car, dragging his feet as he headed to the entrance of the Hospital and by the time he’s inside, his whole body is completely drenched. Multiple nurses call him out, insulting him under their breath for leaving a long trail of water on the hallway, but Gi-hun’s mind is lost enough to not acknowledge their complaints.
He walks until the faint scent of wax and incense arrives at his nose, taking a right turn and entering the small chapel. He collapses on his knees in front of the altar, his heart getting heavier and weaker.
And it’s stupid because his whole life he ran away from religion; he found it senseless and useless to pray for someone – something that probably didn’t exist. But he’s desperate, Gi-hun wants this nightmare to end now, and above them all, he needs Sang-woo to survive this.
He needs a miracle.
Clearing his throat, he claps his hands under his chin, closing his eyes. “I know I’m the last person you’ll ever want to listen to,” He begins, hoping no one is witnessing how low he’s fallen. “And I know everything I’ve done earns me the disgrace of not being helped by you.”
He wipes the tears streaming down his eyes, starting to tremble, “But I just need one thing, only one miracle, that’s all I’m asking for,” Gi-hun opens his eyes, vision almost fully blurred. Looking up, he starts sobbing, because his faith is gradually dying. “Please save him, save Sang-woo; take my life if that’s what you want in return.”
His knees begin to protest against the pressure he’s putting them through, but at this point, he can’t be stopped. “Do you need to take someone? Take me; not him, take me,” Gi-hun pleads, clenching his teeth so he won’t scream. “If you are as benevolent as people claim, just bring him back to my side, I-I still –”
“I still love him.”
Gi-hun closes his eyes for the last time, muttering a forgotten prayer he'd heard in the past on TV, raising from the floor to walk to his next destination.
He wanders through the hallways, Hospital staff ultimately deciding to ignore his behavior. Gi-hun moves automatically, stopping in front of Sang-woo’s room. He enters with his eyes fixed on his friend, ignoring the presence of a rookie nurse.
“Sir, you can’t be here –” The nurse tries to warn him, huffing when Gi-hun stubbornly sits on the nearest chair to Sang-woo’s bed.
Not having the decency to look at the young woman, Gi-hun croaks, “Please, kid,” He bows his head, taking a deep breath. “I just need a minute with him.”
The defeat and pain in Gi-hun’s voice are enough for the nurse to walk out of the room without saying anything back to the older man; her heart starting to ache when she realized the patient he was with.
As soon as he’s alone, Gi-hun raises his head so he can look at Sang-woo’s calm expression; he looks so in peace, Gi-hun almost feels selfish for doing anything in his hands to not lose Sang-woo when, in reality, he didn’t know if that’s what the younger man wanted.
With shaking hands, Gi-hun holds Sang-woo’s cold one between his, stroking with his fingertips every inch of his soft skin; as if tracing a sacred artifact in an art exposition.
“Sang-woo-ah,” Gi-hun mutters, accepting the fact he won’t receive a reaction from the younger man. “You still have the habit of keeping me waiting, don’t you?”
Gi-hun smiles for the first time in days, remembering the way Sang-woo would make him stay under hot and freezing weather whenever he stayed for extracurricular classes and not informing him. “Always stubborn, but also the kindest person in this horrible world, more than I could ever be.”
“You were always more mature than me, smarter too,” Gi-hun recalls, a sad smile forming on his lips. “I remember how the word ‘quit’ was never on your vocabulary because you kept fighting until you achieved everything you wanted.”
Sang-woo’s heartbeat spikes, but Gi-hun doesn’t pay much attention to it. Instead, he grips his hand tighter, eyes tearing up. “You don’t need to keep fighting if that’s not what you want,” Feeling those words leaving his chest doesn’t ease the pain, it increases if Gi-hun was honest. “I’ll understand because the last thing I want is watching you suffer.”
“Even if –” Gi-hun sobs, holding the back of Sang-woo’s hand up to his lips. “Even if it tears you off my life, even if it means I will never have the chance to hear your voice again.”
Nodding to himself, Gi-hun holds his breath until he’s left gasping for air, Sang-woo's last words carved with fire in his mind. “If you want to go –” Gi-hun’s voice cracks and his world finally crumbles. “I want you to know that it’s okay.”
Sobs tear his throat, making him curl in his seat and drop his forehead against the space beside Sang-woo’s arm. He doesn’t have to pretend to be strong for anyone anymore, because he’s doing what needs to be done; letting Sang-woo know there was nothing to worry about, even when Gi-hun knew he wouldn’t be able to live in a world without him.
“You don’t have to hurt anymore, Sang-woo-ah,” Gi-hun snivels, “It’s alright.”
Amidst his crying, a gentle – almost imperceptible caress astonishes Gi-hun, quickly raising his head only to see Sang-woo’s index finger gently stroking his palm.