Chapter Text
❝ In that direction... lives a Hatter, and in that direction... lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they’re both mad. ❞ — The Cheshire cat, Alice in wonderland
"It is necessary the full understanding of propaedeutics so that the topographic, syndromic, and etiological diagnostics can be carried out with increasing expertise and the correct diagnosis and treatments. At this moment I must thank all the people who collaborated in this study and who supported me throughout my college years, as well as during my specialization in this area. I believe that the evolution of neurochemistry studies and its strengthening allied with psychiatric professionals will help us to identify, diagnose, help, and treat people with any problem that we psychiatrists can help." Namjoon concluded, eloquent, and confident, making his voice heard throughout the auditorium.
He was a born-leader: the stage didn't frighten him; it made him thrilled for having the opportunity to speak and be heard in return. To be seen and admired.
That is one of his greatest pleasures.
He proceeded to smile, thanking each nonexistent person in the room, training what he would do on the day he presented his final thesis to his coordinator, the jury, as well as his family who would come from afar and his friends.
There were years left to do so, however, Namjoon was very much confident of the work that he surely believed that it wouldn't take too long to happen.
Mr. Gilbert didn't share the same thoughts whatsoever, and with a sigh dropped his pen on the table with a smile that contained pity, one of those that destroyed the formerly firm that Namjoon created with years of study, whatsoever, Mr. Gilbert’s Intent is to comfort his pupil from what was coming.
"Mr. Kim, you’re one of my best students. You have a good steady mind,'' He says scratching his throat and in an anxious act, he brushes his mustache, not knowing how to give to a very self-centered student his own advice and opinions without causing disagreements or leaving the student feeling unsupported. "Know that I say this with the best regards about your future but… hm... Mr. Kim, don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself on that? You still have three years of specialization before having to hand over your final thesis and become a neurologist. It's too soon. Try to understand me," he appealed. “You need to work close to the patients and doctors to not only learn but to act. Your thesis, despite being good, is just theory. There’s nothing wrong with conjecturing, no: we work with science, and that plays a big part in it. What you must learn as fast as you can to succeed is that this field is much broader than you can see. It deals with lives . And, allow me to be blunt, you lack the understanding of human emotion, feelings. I'm sorry, Namjoon, but I know that your residency starts next Monday and I advise you to be a good intern first and then make a good thesis in two years. Not now."
Namjoon widens his eyes and makes a quick motion to remove his white coat, dropping it to the chair but landing on the floor instead. The thought of going back and putting it in its right place crossed his mind for a second but that didn't matter because all that crossed his mind was that this, the conference to analyze his work couldn't end just like that. He couldn't let that happen.
“But sir, if my thesis proves to be correct, those ideas can improve the way we treat patients with dementia… Could even be a breakthrough on sleep paralysis!” he rebutted, stepping down the stairs quickly in hopes of catching up with the professor before he left the room.
Mr. Gilbert sighed, wearily, checking the time on his watch. He was supposed to be at home with his wife and kids, not with a student who cannot accept orders from his superiors. He liked his pupil, but so far it was hard to imagine Namjoon accepting a hierarchy or warming up to that line of work as an actual human being, not a cold machine spewing data.
The energy the young man had was commendable, yet he’d lose a lot if he continued to listen only to himself and the words on the hardcover books and academic newspapers.
“The problem, Namjoon, is that there is no “we” in that. You're still a student, one that doesn't listen to others, and even though your ideas are genial, you have no background, you lack judgment and fieldwork. Now, if you may, I am leaving. Have a good night, Mr. Kim.”
The professor didn't waste any time; before Namjoon could say anything the door had slammed shut, left to close in a haste.
Namjoon inhaled deeply, not because he needed air but because he needed, in some way, to release the stress, feeling like he held more than he could during those last seconds.
There was a lot in his mind and at that moment he needed to get himself together, so he started breathing, we breathed through the nose, letting the air out of through his mouth, repeating the action until he reached something like calm, but not there yet…
He had it all ready, more than six years of work in that. He was more ready for the thesis when he started medicine than for the studying side.
He was always one foot close to the end, never in the beginning and Kim Namjoon, definitely, was never in the middle. Why run a whole race if you don't focus on its end? The feeling of conquest is much bigger with the end in sight, not on the route. Thinking that the climb is more amazing than the view from the top is just stupid lyricism and philosophy for dummies.
But now, he felt empty, angry, especially searching in his whole presentation, a PowerPoint with more than twenty slides, for a loophole, some critical mistake, even though he was told precisely what was wrong.
He couldn't simply accept it.
With the upcoming weekend, he could focus on reviewing all his work and maybe get some superior at the hospital to read it. He needs a second opinion, not one coming from someone that cares more about going home than helping the future doctors and actually saying something good and valuable. The truth!
His work was flawless and his ideas amazing. A doctor can seldom act alone and independently without hearing the positioning of other professionals, so Namjoon shouldn't only focus on his professor's vision, he needs more.
And maybe that's all because he doesn't accept a contrary opinion.
But fuck it.
He closed the laptop and took all his stuff off the table without storing it in the backpack. All he could think was of getting back to work as quickly as he could.
He left the auditorium tiredly and took off his tie with his free hand, leaving it to hang around the neck, while the other held his laptop and his suitcase. The brown tweed jacket he’d worn on that cold day had been forgotten in the auditorium, but Namjoon did not miss it; somehow Seoul’s freezing March didn't make itself felt through his white silk long sleeves. He couldn't feel the cold, only a few stitches in his head throbbing in tiredness, anger, and maybe a mix of too much caffeine with sleepless nights.
Namjoon didn’t care, though: he had much more to do and to think about than taking aspirin and a nap. No work or improvement would be done with that option on the table.
He checked the time on his watch and started to run through the campus hallways, trying his best to avoid letting anything fall — he had a lot of important, slash expensive things he couldn't afford to lose, like his USB drive and a tie that cost him more than a hundred bucks. Certainly, the sound of something breaking on the floor wasn't heard by him, who continued running, hoping the elevator doors would be open with someone coming in so that he wouldn't have to frantically press the button and wait until it got to his floor...
It'd be no good and would make him waste a lot of time pondering whether or not he should run the eight floors of stairs or wait for the elevator.
He mentally counted the time he already lost while running. Running by the stairs — or just walking, because those steps scared him — would take him ten minutes to do so, waiting for the elevator would take him four minutes if no one else is using it, six if it is being used by the students who had classes at night.
He checked the clock while passing through the medicine students cafeteria. The last bus of the night to his neighborhood was going to pass the nearest stop in 20 minutes, and it was his only ride. If he didn't catch it, he would have to walk two hours to his apartment. Getting out of the elevator, or using the stairs and getting to the bus stop would take him less or more than fifteen minutes.
He needed to be quick in deciding.
All a game of time, chance, and making the right choice. The clock was ticking, and his decision would define whether he would make it home early or not.
Maybe he was in the wrong medicine field: the truth is that he had the skills to be a neurosurgeon, the quick scenarios on his head that would lead to the better idea to give a patient a better life, the talent, knowledge, and the steady hands but nothing would change in his life since he is always like that daily.
Methodical, rational, talented. A leader.
The reason why he chose psychiatry is based on his life, such as a novelty for him, unexpected.
That makes life different.
How exciting!
He crossed the last classrooms and soon saw the elevator, side by side with the snail stairs, spiral, that surrounded the center of the eight floors of the college that Namjoon tried not to use in his six years studying there.
The formation, as well as the time of construction of the university — an ancient library and theater built after the Japanese invasion of Korea, the largest building built at that time in the entire Republic of Korea — made him insecure about using it, believing that any day the rock stones with open space between them would fall, or someone wouldn't put their foot safely on the ladder and would get seriously hurt.
It didn't happen to anyone, for what he knows, that doesn't take away the factor that an accident can still happen and honestly, he doesn't want to be the first.
Especially today, he really was praying to not have to use them, in the despair of taking the bus.
He would never, never use that type of stairs as a first resort, so only the weight of adulthood and the need to go home makes him aware that he may need to use them. As quickly and steady as he can.
Foot by foot, to decrease the chances of getting hurt or falling.
Luckily, the doors of the elevator open while a cleaning lady gets out with the cleaning cart and Namjoon breathes, relieved, happy, crossing the teachers' offices.
"Ajumma please, hold the elevator!"
She was startled, believing to be alone since night is always so calm and no one talks to her, but quickly she acted, putting her arm between the doors making it impossible for the elevator to close.
Namjoon released the air in relief and slowed down the stride, bowing several times to the lady in front of him, and when he entered the elevator and the doors closed, he searched for his phone that was not safely packed in his small back pocket for the guard inside his purse but stopped seeing the yellow light flashing in the bottom corner of the phone, letting him know that it had notifications.
He pressed his fingertip on the back of the phone and saw the warning of one message left on reading, opening kakao talk to see his best friend icon first.
Hobison ♡︎
Hey, I'm outside waiting for you, let's drink soju and celebrate, I am finally a doctor of words!
[22:23, Friday]
Hurry up, don't make Hyung wait for you :(
[22:35, Friday]
Namjoon
I'm almost there, wait, I'm getting out of the elevator.
[22:41, Friday]
And oh, congratulations Hyung, I'm happy for you! But can we drink in my apartment? I have something to check.
[22:41, Friday]
Hobison ♡︎
Ok ok! I'm outside, c'mon, don't make the elders wait for you.
[22:42,Friday]
Namjoon
You're only a few months older than me… 🤨
[22:42, Friday]
Hobison ♡︎
HURRY!
[22:42, Friday]
Another situation that he wasn't waiting for, but the best option. The game has changed and finally, the big challenge doesn't exist anymore. Should he be relieved that he didn't have to run to catch the bus? Or should he be, in part, upset for not ending the challenge and goal he imposed?
Part of him was happy for Hoseok being here, another part wished he didn't appear. Not completing something he had his mind focused on makes him nervous.
✖
Namjoon got into the old farm van with whom Hoseok was gifted by his parents after deciding to go study away from the countryside. The van was parked illegally in front of the large metal gate of the college, but no student was around to notice that, and, nevertheless, Hoseok probably didn't care.
He was soon greeted by a smell quite familiar to him: watermelon, cheap perfume — maybe rose water — and old books, with the smell of french fries and cheese that seemed to be the new thing Hoseok had decided to bring to the car, with no mercy for the vehicle nor any notion of how dirty the car was.
Namjoon always felt it took him a great effort to get into that car, which looked more like a pile of garbage than a vehicle, but he couldn't complain, the ride gave him a lot of help.
Sometimes he thought of trying to appeal to his friend for a deep car cleaning, but it seemed like a rude thing to ask. He cared about the vehicle almost like it's his baby, and probably wouldn't take well to any negative comment towards it.
Hoseok stuck his hands full of french fries with condiments through his mouth and the corners of his heart-shaped lips were full of oil, salt, and ketchup. Instead of looking at Namjoon or saying something, he continued eating and the steering wheel got dirtier and dirtier.
"Hyung, can we go?", Namjoon asked after Hoseok's third dose of dirty fried hands.
Wasn't he in a hurry, anyway?
Hoseok seemed to return to reality because soon his gaze was directed at Namjoon and surprised, waved that yes, seeming only now to have noticed the presence of the other.
He put the paper bag with the fries inside a larger McDonald's and then into a plastic one, tying the tabs in a knot, and finally glancing at Namjoon, embarrassed.
"Namjoon-ah… do you want some?" to which the student answers with a disgusted face.
"No, it's fine, you can have them all." He said, moving away from the strong smell of industrial cheese coming from the package. Disgusting, indeed. "Are we going?", Namjoon asked again.
"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I decided to buy some food on the way and I'm really hungry, couldn't resist" he explained.
"You can eat at my place"
"Good. Let's go."
✖
Hoseok made himself comfortable on Namjoon's couch, and he did not wait for the nice tableware that Namjoon went to get for him to put all the food he bought.
Namjoon frowned at the strong smell of cheese that made him sick and decided to open a window, ones from the top of the space that he turned at home, with glazing and curtains all over the place for being an old painting studio.
The smell of ink had had to come out, so the smell of cheese would too.
"I nailed my final thesis: genius!" he said with total confidence, looking very much happy with himself.
Namjoon smiled, trying to ignore the strange feeling in his chest, the dread of failure and not being understood and appreciated.
Indeed, never before felt.
Now, he should be happy for his friend. They had been separated for more than two months because Hoseok simply denied outside contact as he rewrote and finished his Literature thesis. Now that he had succeeded in his thesis and was finally available, Namjoon should thank heaven for it. He finally had his best friend back but something distracted him from that, bothering him as if he had something sour in his throat and his whole body manifested the strange emptiness in itself.
They usually texted each other but that changed over time while Hoseok disappeared more and more between books so the daily messages became rare moments between them and since Hoseok studied at a different university — in the center of Seoul —, they rarely got physically in touch.
"I believe you never told me which was the subject analyzed in your thesis. What is it?" Namjoon asked, sitting on the other couch, in front of Hoseok.
He got his laptop from the backpack and searched for the USB drive with his work as he waited for the answer. His hands fail to grasp it in the usual spot it usually is, which makes him stop for a moment.
It might be somewhere in here, I didn't put it in the right place when I left the classroom, he thinks.
"It's a deep analysis of all the hidden meanings in classic literature and analysis on the possibility of certain elements being planned or not perceived by the author at that time. I started with Anna Karenina by Tolstoi and finished with Alice in Wonderland by Charles Lutwidge Dodgson or Lewis Carrol, his pseudonym and as he is more known."
"How is a child fairytale something to study?'' Namjoon asked, turning the backpack upside down, shaking it to see if the USB drive would fall off the spot where it was hidden.
"My dear Mr. Kim," Hoseok started, speaking formally and gallantly. "You would be impressed by the number of things that happen in Alice in Wonderland that is much more profound than they lead on. Let's start with the fact that the writing itself, Lewis, was a friend of the Lidells family with a little girl named Alice and was, a lot of times, alone with her and the sister, taking some very odd and naked pictures of them and then he created a story about a little girl named Alice, exactly like the one in the real-life and was, as I told you before but you may not have noticed so I say it again: a pedophile. Well, he, indeed, made his wish to marry her very clearly to the Lindell's. Honestly, what all the characters might represent besides the story is what truly amazed me, there's so much. What the hell was Lewis thinking when he wrote that story? Especially when he made Alice run after a rabbit and fall into a hole when he made her shrink and then enlarge, and even when he made her paint white roses red? That's so curious! There must be a reason somewhere, something deeply connected to his relationship with one of the Lindells' daughters!” he said with passion and latent curiosity expressed in his eyes, which barely blinked as he spewed information.
"Today that's a crime but in that time it wasn't — if I remember well, Elvis Presley liked teenage girls quite too much, since he married two." Namjoon spoke, following a different line of reasoning. “I think the answer to that is that the past shows how mad people are”
Hoseok frowned every muscle in his face, considering Namjoon's unusual conclusion to the theme in focus.
"Anyway", the older man resumed the matter. "My thesis focused more on the double meanings in the work rather than the characters, I only focused more on the Cheshire cat and my teachers did enjoy my analysis. I'm finally fucking free of college" He celebrated, drinking the whole soju out-of-the paper bottle.
"The Cheshire cat?"
"Yes, that purple and black cat that talks to Alice and never give any proper response to her. He even disappears and has a big smile that makes us wonder what the hell he's hiding or what he is, but the truth is that you can never forget the smile or his words. Honestly, It's freaking crazy for a kid's book."
"Hm, I never watched… fuck… Hoseok, fuck…." Namjoon stops in his tracks, his hands above his head and face in shock. He looked focused on all the materials left on the ground hoping it would be a mistake of his, a mere distraction.
But then it dawned on him it wasn't, and quickly the panic flew through his whole body, making Hoseok stupendous, waiting for the explanation for the abrupt reaction of the other.
"No, no, no… I can't believe I lost my USB drive with all of my goddamn research! I needed to review it and ask someone at the hospital to take a look... This can't be happening to me, it can’t!" he cried out in despair and crouched on the floor like a weeping child.
Though it was more like a weeping desperate adult.
"Wait, maybe it fell on my car, do you want me to go check it out real quick? Calm down, Joon, it must be there, wait".
Hoseok left the apartment quickly with the car keys in his hand and his phone's flashlight turned on to inspect the floor, fully determined to help his friend but by now Namjoon was certain that the noise he had ignored on the uni corridor had been the USB pen falling down.
It's funny how attention works. Namjoon could clearly recall the sound of something breaking. He took a deep breath, pressing the bow of his nose, and let his head fall back into the sofa's arm.
He was absolutely sure that now he had fucked up real hard and lost six years of study and development, most of it that he can remember.
He could try to get everything done again at his computer during the weekend but it wouldn't be enough or as good.
"Namjoon-ah, tell me you kept the files on your email or in the computer for fucks sake. The pen isn't in my car!"
"No, I have not, Hoseok", his voice came out thin, as if he had shame and regret.
He should be more careful, he should save his work wherever he can and not only on a little blue USB pen that was easily lost. Fuck. He really messed up.
"Your work wasn't accepted? You were looking for it to review it? "
Namjoon nodded yes with his head, resting it afterward on her arms.
"Fuck! Okay, don't worry, I got your back, don't know how but… okay Monday you can go there and see if they found and left it in the lost and found. Maybe it's there!", Hobi said, confident.
"Monday I start my residency at the Ilsan hospital. It's too far from college and I start at ten am and end at seven pm and I have to catch the train and bus."
"Ilsan hospital? Why are you going so far away when you have the Seoul University hospital in fifteen minutes from your apartment? Really Namjoon, are you thinking? That's two hours away!", shouted, incredulous of Namjoon's actions and responsibilities.
The hospital was the best choice, that's what Hoseok thinks. He would have more free time, more time to rest or hang out with friends. Doing his residency at Seoul center hospital was living for the job.
"I know that but Ilsan hospital has a non-developed psychiatric field. They urgently need more psychiatrists working there and that soon assured me a place, it will be advantageous for me to work in a hospital where I can end up working permanently. It's a win for me." He defended himself.
He took some time to think, Namjoon maybe was waiting for an answer but he did not know what else to say.
The answer to this seemed clear: Namjoon didn't judge him when we went on full thesis focus on the last months and maybe he should support his friend on his choices, he was doing what he thought would be better for his future but unlike Hoseok, who had everything he needed right in his room while working, Namjoon was going to work in a hospital with three hours of distance from his house.
So… how not to question a lot of aspects in that change of environment: how the hell is he going to have a healthy and happy life when he doesn't have time to get home and clean? When he doesn't have time to spend alone or with friends, play video games or even read or rest? When is he going to eat?
Honestly, he prayed for the best.
"Here, have it all, you need it more than me," He said, giving Namjoon all the soju bottles and then sitting by his side, putting his left arm all over Namjoon's big strong shoulders. "Monday I will go to your university and ask around if they found a USB pen, okay? Relax and drink! Hyung will take care of it".
Namjoon sighed and tilted his head back, seeking relief of some of the tension that filled his whole body, but instead only managed to realize that something else was missing.
"Hm...can I ask something more?" Namjoon gave a fake smile, as if he was begging for a yes and also apologizing.
Hoseok signed and passed his hands over his long black hair, which reached up to his shoulder. He had let them grow and it was amazing how he looked even more beautiful and attractive with his hair stuck in a bun or long, indomitable and rebellious as the wind.
"I forgot my jacket at Auditorium 1, is that brown one that you say looks like your grandpa ones. Can you also get it?", he asked ashamed.
Hoseok nodded and gently squeezed Namjoon's shoulder.
"Thank you, Hoseok", Namjoon thanked him, grateful for having him by his side.
He took an already open bottle and gave a few sips before lying his head on his friend's shoulder, trying to breathe in controlled strides, and being able to calm his whole body and mind.
✖
The sun entering the windows of the studio where Namjoon lived was diminishing more and more as the light disappeared over the horizon but Namjoon had never realized this, too focused on recovering six years of work in two days.
Hoseok had promised to recover the USB pen but Namjoon felt he couldn't wait for a matter of luck. His future depended much more on his effort and dedication than to forget and hope to regain the pen. Hoseok was also not a student in that institution and someone may question why the fuck is he there and really, Namjoon hoped that no one would call the police for a suspect man searching things on the lost and founds using an ID that doesn't belong to him.
Really, marvelous play, Namjoon, you´re the best. You screw up your whole academic path in a few hours and you, somewhat, maybe got your best friend screwed up.
The work was much more than incomplete. He knew all the information and terms that were used, even all references to other prestigious psychiatrists and their ideas and studies developed, but as hard as he worked, he barely could finish in one month a conclusion of one of his courses at the end of the semester, let's more of the six-year-old thesis in two days.
It was impossible and it was wearisome, somehow the lack of exactness between two documents by the same author with the same aim, reason, and purpose made him quite angry.
He lost count of how many times he messed and combed his hair. The skin around the nails had crunched and thinned them to the point that trying to bite them would cause blood and that it was so hygienic to mix saliva with so many bacteria next to the wounds. How the fuck did a medical degree student would without conscious control cause himself some fungus or infection.
But he couldn't control it. He couldn't stop his mind, he couldn't stop the thoughts that run through his head without him letting them exist, without wanting them. He was pure anxiety, fears, and paranoia. His body was reacting to that while his mind was in a race against time and his fingers ached to seek perfection that he will never be able to reach.
But on sleepless nights and in uncomfortable positions with an empty stomach and a brain too stimulated by the computer light he will never understand that it is not about perfection but quality, accuracy, and revolution. Science needs to be tested and revolutionized, needs to fail, and to be right, needs to be tested and evaluated. Not perfect, never perfect.
Something perfect is something in no need of change, and that's exactly what science is not and humans can be studied in detail, but there will always be something uncalculated, undiscovered, not dealt with properly. There will even be diseases without a cure and cures that don't cure anything.
Sometimes life shakes you off from the highest trunk of a tree to the depths of a rabbit hole to help you grow, to make you see more, to show you that there's more than the world you built yourself. Namjoon just never imagined that his foundation of ideas and beliefs would be torn down as fast as a house of cards and that everything would be built again with cards running through a maze belonging to a red queen of hearts who lives by her ideas and truth, seeking a young curious and stubborn person, who met a strange smiling cat that keeps truths hidden in cloths and enigmatic smiles and expressive eyes that brings doubts and questions and, more than anything, words that make anyone as crazy as he.
✖
Namjoon was late. not that kind of formally late or fashionable late. He was just very late to his first day as a resident in one of the best hospitals in the country.
Not that he got out of home when it was convenient for him, or that he fell asleep.
Actually, there was a lot of shit in the world and someone had been a shitty person to ruin a woman's day and delay everyone in their schedules! Some pervert, a man the police were already after, was arrested by a woman in the wagon when he touched and ejaculated over a little girl on the train full of people.
The situation was horrible and Namjoon questioned how the girl would be feeling, even thought of offering to help at the time but nothing else could do because quickly the child was taken to the hospital and the subway stopped midway.
Due to the great complaint of such situations in the carriages of the trains, the police soon arrested the suspect and decided to form a process on the situation, taking advantage of the wagon stop to question all passengers.
Namjoon assured one of the police officers that he had seen nothing by being at the bottom of the wagon. Unfortunately it didn't matter if people were from another carriage. They all stayed there until they gave their statement and the train was only allowed to continue the journey about thirty minutes later, beating his entry time and the fifteen-minute tolerance.
Even though he had the police ticket to show why he was late, he knew that this would still be decompensated in his record as a resident and that possibly the chief doctor of the department of psychiatry would no longer have time to answer any questions or guide him.
Inside the elevator he pressed hard the letter of acceptance and recommendation and the two notebooks he had at home, forgotten. One had a simple hard black cover and the other one had a blue coat covering the notebook and a shiny watermelon in the center.
A little embarrassing, but it was the only empty notebook that he had, and didn't have time to buy new ones, as he had only been working on the thesis over the weekend.
Namjoon searched the button with a drawn 7, pressing several times in the hope that the doors would close as quickly as possible. As they closed, slowly, he observed how number 13 and 4 was missing in the numbering of the floors.
A hospital believing in bad luck?
Yes, Namjoon did know how superstitious people could be; 13 was the unlucky number and in Asia, 4 was a synonym of bad omens and impending death, because their reading in Chinese was very close to reading the word "death".
But that in a hospital? He'd have expected that they were at least more science-guided.
Suddenly, Namjoon felt a strong pressure on his chest and it seemed that gravity had disappeared because he felt all the weight on his head instead of his feet.
He looked at the screen and wide-eyed. The numbers were slowly rising, the elevator said they were going up, but why did Namjoon feel like he was falling? It couldn't be… It couldn't be... He felt clearly couldn't be... He felt everything so clearly. It seemed that out of nowhere his body would bump into the elevator ceiling and even without touching, he could feel his hair standing as if static electricity surrounded him.
He was falling, so why did the elevator show otherwise?
Feeling claustrophobic, Namjoon tapped his head back and as if he were levitating, he almost lost consciousness but the sound of the elevator bell made him wake up strongly as if it were pulled back to reality and suddenly all those strange sensations disappeared.
He shrugged, opening his eyes at the same time that the elevator doors opened on the seven-floor, the one desired.
The floor was quiet, in contrast with the mind of Namjoon who was noisy, confused, lost in the confusion of what had happened and as if nothing in front of him was real or right he came out slowly from the elevator, looking at the floor that treated as if it were something that would disappear out of nowhere.
That was so strange! He thought, breathing slowly and looking to all sides without actually seeing something.
Trying to ignore what he felt, blaming his anxiety and delay, he shakes his head as if to repel confused thoughts and combs his hair, strangely raised, with his fingers.
Focus, Namjoon! You're the doctor, not the one needing medical help!
Looking at the two corridors in the opposite direction. In front of him was a small room divided by four glass walls. The waiting room.
Namjoon questioned what to do.
Should he wait there for someone or try to find Miss Lee Jieun's office?
Silence seemed to create a division between the real world and a world where there was no sign of life. Not even a nurse was seen walking from bedroom to bedroom or even a cleaning lady.
Namjoon felt lost, that floor was like a maze and there were two paths to follow but none of them warned him where the offices were and where the patients were hospitalized.
How he wished we could come earlier, as I wished he had previously known where he would work.
He looked at the two corridors and scratched his head slightly, nervous, anxious, and in doubt.
"Mr. Kim Namjoon, I presume", a voice said behind him, feminine but with a strong satori accent.
Namjoon jumped in fright and put his hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat strong and anxiety increased when he looked back and saw a woman, perhaps in her twenties, looking at him with certain petulance and authority.
"Ah… yes, it's me!" answered, straightening his robes and bowing. Even though he wasn't sure who she was, she thought it best not to sin out of disrespect.
The woman pulled the sleeve away from her white coat and inspected the watch. She did not seem to be content, not even well disposed, and showed no forcibly to respond politely to Namjoon.
"I'm doctor Lee Jieun, head chef of the psychiatrist wing and your supervisor. You will work with a crisis group that is hospitalized in the morning, one of the patients has already arrived and is in the room.” she said quickly checking some papers in her hand. Without looking at the newby, she coldly talked. “Just so you don't think I'll be kind on your first day, I want you to know that I've already noted your delay in your briefcase, Doctor ." she spoke, expressing the last word with suspicion.
As if she didn't believe in Namjoon's abilities or work...
Namjoon quickly pulled out of his pocket the paper given by the policeman and held forward, putting the symbol of the Korean police force in evidence.
"Doctor Lee, I'm very sorry for failing you on my first day however I have a paper here that proves that it wasn't my fault." Namjoon expressed it formally but worried.
He didn't want to fall for the bad graces of his supervisor in any way.
"Follow me" she dictated, simple without daring to glance at the paper, and quickly turned her back, hitting her high heels strongly against the floor of the left aisle.
Namjoon followed, curious whenever they passed some closed doors and sometimes stopped to observe her supervisor and how her long hair cascaded down her back and her large crystal earrings were driven from front to back.
The doctor stopped in front of a door, it had a bunny drawn but the paint began to peel, perhaps because it was painted a long time ago or there was a lack of respect and care in relation to the hospital space.
"Since you came late we have no time for formalities. You're going to meet everyone in the crisis group today, they are all my patients, I ask you to not strongly interact with them today, just watch! I hope I don't have to teach you how to behave in this space" she sent and did not wait for a reply from Namjoon, knocking right at the door and opening it, surprising Namjoon by the melodious voice that had come out of her mouth.
"Jeongguk, good morning, how are you feeling today? Forgive me for coming here a little late today, I had a delay."
"That's ok, nonna! Good morning”, he smiled briefly and took his hands off his legs, where he warmed them. It was very cold inside the big room and the window was open, which was weird but Namjoon or he did nothing about that... “ Well, I think I'm just like yesterday but different because today isn't yesterday, it's today. How about you ask me that tomorrow? I'm sure the answer will be the same." the boy in the room said boldly, and doctor Lee laughed, nicely looking like a totally different person, making Namjoon frown in an undisguised way.
She was so different when interacting with patients…
"Jeongguk, I have to introduce you to the new resident doctor in this wing. You will see him many times since he will accompany me to all of my appointments and will be by my side in every group therapy session and in our private talks. This is doctor Kim Namjoon. "
Namjoon came in, trying to be nice and seem affable. It was his first day and he should give his best even as Dr. Lee's words rumbled through his head. Should we speak?
The boy in the big black couch shouldn't be more than twenty-two which at first brought strangeness to Namjoon who sought to specialize in child psychiatry. He had wavy brown hair that reached a little lower than his ears and it seemed to have a halo in it, with the sun entering through the big window that led every patient to an outdoor recreation area, strongly secure and enjoyable...
He was wearing a long, thick blue and black flannel shirt and black timberland boots along with some old blue denim pants.
His face looked childish, but had strong features, like a sharp jaw and prying eyes, too observant, too full of something that Namjoon could not identify. But it was something that spoke stronger than his words.
But, it was his smile that left Namjoon unkindly looking at his patient.
Jeongguk's smile seemed to suggest a thousand truths and a thousand lies, a thousand stories and a thousand fantasies. But nothing real, not even normal.
How could a person have such expressive features?
"Good morning, Doctor Namjoon! You didn't happen to see a white rabbit around?
Namjoon widened his eyes.
"The rabbit on the door?" he asked, wondering if Jeongguk's mind was somehow trapped in a child's behavior and innocence.
"No, the white rabbit with the clock you lost, because nonna is never late, so it might be you the reason!"