Chapter Text
The light coming through the window was soft, as if it knew that in this room, there was no need to disturb too much. It was noon, although in the hospital, time didn’t seem to matter. Suho measured it by the footsteps of the nurses, by the meals they always brought without salt, by the moment when the nurse would take his blood pressure without looking him in the eye, or by the sound of the cleaning cart wheels against the floor.
Being in bed for so long made you more aware of everything else. The weight of your own body. How difficult it was to take a deep breath without it hurting. How much it hurt to be alone with your thoughts.
He quickly got used to not asking. To looking out the window without expecting anything. The room's walls were white, but with a greenish tint that made him uncomfortable. He thought many times that the hospital wasn’t made for healing, but to isolate you from the world while you healed on your own.
And yet, he wasn’t as alone as he thought he would be.
The first time Sieun appeared in the hospital garden, Suho thought he was dreaming. The sun was high, spilling over the trimmed grass and stone paths. The air smelled of damp earth and disinfectant, a strange but almost comforting mix after being locked inside. Suho, sitting in his wheelchair, blinked several times as he saw Sieun approach.
He had that usual neutral expression, almost serious, but his eyes… his eyes were locked on him, as if he couldn’t afford to look anywhere else.
For a moment, they stayed silent, just a few steps apart. After everything that had happened, neither seemed to know how to break that invisible distance.
“How’s it going?” Suho asked, raising his voice slightly. He sounded more casual than he really felt.
Sieun nodded slightly. “Good,” he replied, his voice low and simple, as if the words were difficult for him.
Suho looked down for a moment, nervous. Then he lifted his gaze again and noticed some figures moving further behind Sieun. He asked, pointing with a nod of his head:
“Who are those guys?”
Sieun turned slightly to see them and then looked back at him.
“My friends.”
Suho smiled, a small but genuine smile.
“That’s awesome.”
And then, unexpectedly, Sieun smiled too. It was a small, restrained smile, but sincere. That unique smile that always seemed to light something inside Suho, sending a slight chill down his spine, like a whisper of life slipping through the tense calm of the hospital.
For a moment, everything else—the pain, the exhaustion, the distance—disappeared.
It was just them, under the sun.
From that moment on, Sieun came every day.
They didn’t talk much. Sometimes they exchanged short sentences, but most of the time, the silence was comfortable. Suho appreciated that. He wasn’t ready for long conversations, and Sieun seemed to understand that.
But today was different.
Since the morning, something had been bothering him. Maybe it was because he had slept poorly, or that the persistent headache wouldn’t leave him alone. Maybe it was the silence in the hallway, occasionally interrupted by distant voices.
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself. He thought of his grandmother. Her warm voice on the phone. How she would tell him to take care, not to worry, that everything was fine at home. She still couldn’t come to see him. It hurt to think about that, but at the same time, it comforted him. He didn’t want her to see him like this, hooked up to machines, pale and weak. He didn’t want to worry her more.
He felt a slight change in the air, like the atmosphere in the room shifted. He opened his eyes. The door opened.
He expected to see Sieun entering as usual, with his calm steps and serene expression. But this time, he wasn’t alone.
He heard several voices. A muffled laugh. Steps he didn’t recognize.
Sieun appeared first, with his hands in his coat pockets. Behind him, three boys walked in. All with different expressions, but with an energy that contrasted with the usual silence of the hospital.
“Hi,” Sieun said, in a casual tone that didn’t completely hide some tension. “I hope it’s okay… these are my friends. They came with me today.”
Suho took a second to react. His eyes scanned each face.
The first to approach was a short guy, thin, with glasses and an alert expression. Although he seemed a bit nervous, there was a curious energy in the way he looked around the room, as if he wanted to understand everything all at once.
“Seo Joon Tae,” he said, giving a brief nod, his gaze immediately shifting to the monitor that measured Suho’s heart rate.
The second was a taller guy, broad-shouldered, with a friendly face, and messy hair as if he had hurried to get there. He smiled openly, disarming any tension in the air.
“Hyuntak,” he introduced himself, raising a hand in a relaxed greeting. “Nice to meet you.”
Finally, the third. With a calm presence, dark hair, and defined features, he moved forward with steady steps. He didn’t seem in a hurry to speak, but there was something in the way he stood near Sieun that made it clear he was confident.
He stood at the edge of the bed and held Suho’s gaze calmly.
“Humin,” he simply said, offering a brief smile, warm and sincere. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
The way he said it wasn’t malicious, but there was a closeness in his tone that made Suho tense up, just slightly. An imperceptible shift in his shoulders. He lowered his gaze a bit, unsure how to respond.
“Thanks for coming,” he murmured.
Sieun sat at the edge of the bed, as usual. He seemed relaxed, though Suho noticed a slight change in his posture, as if he too was measuring the situation.
The other boys talked among themselves, commenting on how boring it must be to be there, how horrible the hospital food was, what they had missed in class. Hyuntak cracked jokes every two minutes. Seo Joon Tae dropped curious facts about diseases. And Humin… Humin spoke little, but every time he did, it was with his eyes on Sieun, ruffling his hair every now and then, showing his familiarity.
Suho noticed it. It didn’t bother him. Not exactly.
But it gave him a strange feeling in his stomach. As if he were watching something that had once been his.
It wasn’t jealousy.
Just a pang he didn’t quite know how to name.
“How are you feeling today?” Sieun asked, not moving from his spot.
Suho looked at him. That voice calmed him.
“Better,” he said, and it was true. Physically, at least.
Sieun nodded. Then he looked down. The others kept talking among themselves, distracted, as if they were part of another world. One Suho didn’t fully belong to yet.
When they left, it was with ease. Hyuntak fist-bumped him like old friends. Seo Joon Tae gave an exaggerated bow. Humin simply gave him another brief smile and walked out with Sieun.
Suho watched them leave in silence. The door closed slowly behind them.
And for the first time since Sieun had started visiting him, Suho felt that the silence wasn’t comfortable.
He felt like the room was once again, his.
+++
One more sunny day, Suho found himself waiting in his room, pretending to read a random magazine from the bedside table.
But in reality, he was counting the minutes until they arrived.
It didn't take long.
First came Sieun, as usual: backpack hanging from one shoulder, headphones dangling around his neck, and that relaxed way of walking that seemed to hide all his real energy.
Behind him came Humin, Hyuntak, and Seo Joon Tae.
"Let's go outside, hyung!" Hyuntak said as soon as he crossed the door, smiling as if the hospital were an amusement park.
"You could use some fresh air," Humin added, kind but direct.
Suho smiled faintly, not because of the plan but because Sieun, although saying nothing, was already preparing the wheelchair as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
It wasn't that Suho needed help all the time, but... he didn't want to refuse if it meant spending more time with them. With him.
"Let's go," Sieun said, gripping the handles of the wheelchair.
The group moved down the hallway, joking and chatting lightly.
Hyuntak led the way, doing little tricks with a tennis ball he had found at reception; Seo Joon Tae followed, entertained with his phone.
Humin walked alongside Sieun, attentive.
That's when it happened.
While pushing the wheelchair, Sieun awkwardly stumbled on a small uneven spot in the floor. He took a misstep, momentarily letting go of the chair, and before he could fall, Humin caught him with a firm hand on his arm.
"Everything okay?" Humin asked, smiling slightly.
Sieun immediately nodded, regaining his balance, brushing it off.
"Yeah, it's nothing."
Suho, sitting in the chair, saw everything.
How Humin held him, how Sieun accepted the gesture without fuss.
He felt a tightness in his stomach. He cleared his throat loudly, coughing to mask his discomfort.
Sieun glanced at him sideways, one eyebrow slightly raised.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, yeah," Suho replied quickly, waving his hand as if it was nothing. "The air, I guess."
Sieun looked at him for a second more, suspicious, but didn’t insist.
They kept walking.
When they reached the garden, they chose a wide bench near a couple of trees.
The sun was softly falling on the grass, and a cool breeze made being outside even comfortable.
"Did you know Seo Joon Tae was the chess champion in his elementary school?" Hyuntak said out of nowhere, sitting on the grass.
"That was years ago!" Seo Joon Tae protested, pushing him lightly.
"Chess, huh?" Suho smiled, looking at them.
"And Hyuntak won a ramen-eating contest," Joon Tae added quickly.
Laughter erupted, and even Sieun let out a small laugh, which he quickly tried to cover up by putting his hand over his mouth.
Humin settled on the bench beside Suho.
"They're good guys," he commented, watching the other two, who were already debating whether or not to tell more stories.
Suho nodded, his gaze momentarily drifting to Sieun, who was attentively listening to his friends’ nonsense.
A while later, when the sun started to set, Humin checked the time on his phone.
"We have to go. There’s a surprise exam tomorrow," he said, standing up.
"Again?" Hyuntak protested.
"Surprise exam, yes, because no one ever studies," Seo Joon Tae huffed, standing up as well.
Sieun helped Suho settle again, while the three guys waved and smiled as they said their goodbyes.
When they were alone, the hospital sounded like it always did: distant, muted.
Suho rested an elbow on the armrest of the chair and glanced at him sideways.
"You get along with them, don't you?"
Sieun, sitting next to him on the bench, shrugged.
"Yeah. They're chill." He looked up at the sky for a second before lowering his gaze to Suho. "They're not like..." He didn’t finish the sentence. It wasn’t necessary.
Suho nodded slowly.
"And Humin?" he asked, trying to sound casual, as if asking about any random thing.
Sieun blinked, a little confused.
"What about Humin?"
"I don't know. You seem... close."
Sieun tilted his head, thinking.
"It's easy to talk to him," he said in the end, without much drama in his voice. "But..." He looked at him, as if searching for something in his eyes. "Not like... with you."
Suho felt his heart do a stupid flip.
But he didn’t let it show.
He just smiled, faintly, and turned his gaze back to the garden.
"I'm glad," he murmured.
And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t lie.
+++
The day was warm, and Suho's room was filled with light.
Suho was lying on his bed, entertained by looking out the window when he heard soft knocks on the door.
"May I come in?"—his grandmother's unmistakable voice made him smile.
"Come in, Grandma."
She entered, carrying a cloth bag, which she placed on the table next to his bed.
Immediately, the aroma of hot rice, kimchi, and something fried filled the room.
"I thought you might be tired of hospital food," she said, pulling out small containers carefully wrapped.
Suho smiled more widely.
"I always think better with your food, Grandma."
She chuckled softly, and while she arranged the food for him to eat, she gently stroked his hair.
"Look," she said after a moment, pulling an object from her pocket. "I forgot to give this to you earlier. Your phone. I found it at home, it was charging."
Suho’s eyes widened in surprise.
"I completely forgot about it," he murmured, taking it from her.
The screen was off, but as soon as he pressed the power button, it vibrated strongly.
Dozens of notifications flashed immediately. Messages, missed calls, emails.
But what caught his attention most was the small chat icon showing an almost absurd number of unread messages.
He waited for his grandmother to sit next to him so they could eat together, and while savoring a bite of rice, he unlocked the phone.
The first name that appeared was Sieun.
Curious, he scrolled through the messages.
There were texts dated regularly, sometimes two or three times a week.
Suho swallowed. He hadn’t expected... this much.
He began reading, one by one.
[Friday, 10:42 AM]
"Today it rained all day. I remembered when we used to stay at the school entrance watching the rain fall. I thought you would’ve said something like 'let’s run home' but then you would’ve stayed anyway."
Suho smiled, remembering.
[Tuesday, 6:15 PM]
"Hyuntak won another ramen eating contest. They made me film it. I don’t know why I still hang out with them."
A small laugh escaped his lips.
[Saturday, 2:03 PM]
"Today I got to know Humin more. He’s easy to talk to. Sometimes he reminds me of you... but more patient."
Suho slightly frowned, his hand tightening around the phone without realizing.
He didn’t know why, but that comparison felt heavy.
He moved on to the next message.
[Monday, 9:47 PM]
"I went to see you again today. It doesn’t matter if you still haven’t opened your eyes. I’ll keep coming."
Suho placed the phone on his chest for a moment, breathing deeply.
The lump in his throat was unexpected.
He continued reading.
[Wednesday, 11:58 PM]
"They asked me if you were important to me. I didn’t know what to say. Or I didn’t know how to say it without sounding stupid."
Suho froze. That message hit him differently, like a warm wave.
He felt a tingling in his stomach, as if suddenly, the air in the room was lighter.
He swiped his finger across the screen, reading those words over and over.
It was so typical of Sieun. Not saying much, but saying it all.
With a small, silly smile he couldn’t control, Suho turned off the phone and hugged it to his chest, closing his eyes for a moment.
His grandmother’s food was still steaming next to him, but in that moment, nothing mattered more than knowing he had been waited for. That, somehow, he had been important all this time.
Later, Suho was sitting on his bed, more awake than usual, his phone in hand, though the screen was off.
He couldn’t stop thinking about those messages. About Sieun writing them, alone, without knowing if he would ever read them.
Soft knocks on the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Come in," he said.
Sieun peeked his head in, always with that same serious expression that Suho had begun to understand differently.
He walked over calmly, a small bag in his hand.
"I brought you something," he said, placing the package on the nightstand. "They’re... snacks. For when you can eat more things."
"Thanks," Suho smiled. It wasn’t hard to smile when he was around.
Sieun dragged a chair over and sat close to the bed, glancing at him sideways.
"How are you today?"
"Better. They let me walk a little more each day." Suho looked down for a second and then lifted his gaze as if something had occurred to him. "But... I keep myself entertained reading stuff."
Sieun raised an eyebrow, curious.
"What stuff?"
Suho spun the phone slowly between his fingers.
"Old messages." He paused briefly, looking him directly in the eyes. "Some really good ones."
Sieun blinked. A faint blush appeared on his cheeks, barely noticeable.
"Ah," he simply said, looking down at the floor.
Suho noticed how his shoulders tensed.
He wanted to laugh but held it back. Instead, he pretended to search for something on his phone screen while casually saying:
"I liked one in particular. One that said you didn’t know how to say I was important to you."
Sieun pressed his lips together, uncomfortable, and Suho felt the impulse to reach out and touch his wrist, tell him he didn’t need to be embarrassed.
"It doesn’t sound stupid," Suho added, softer this time. "Not at all."
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable.
It was one of those silences full of things that didn’t need to be said.
After a while, Sieun looked up and murmured:
"It’s because you are."
Suho smiled, small and genuine, feeling that inexplicable warmth in his chest again.
"I’m glad to know that."
They stayed like that, no more words, as if all the noise of the hospital had disappeared.
Just the two of them, understanding a little more what they had been, what they were, and what they might become.
Suho couldn’t stop glancing at him. Sieun was there, sitting on the edge of his bed, silently, as if words weren’t necessary.
After a moment of stillness, Suho decided to break the calm.
"Would you like to take a walk in the garden?" he asked, his voice softer than he expected.
Sieun looked up, and for a moment, seemed to think about it.
It wasn’t a grand place, just a small garden inside the hospital, but something about the tranquil atmosphere made it feel different, like a little refuge.
"Where are we going?" Sieun asked, almost casually, but with a little spark of curiosity.
"I don’t know. Maybe... just a walk. See if they’ll let me walk a little more." Suho let out a smile he tried to make natural, as if it were all a joke, but his tone held something more. A desire for the afternoon to stretch, for the time with Sieun to feel less limited by the hospital walls.
Sieun nodded. He didn’t seem so reluctant to the idea, and that made Suho feel a little lighter.
They both stood up from the chair, and with slow steps, headed for the door. Sieun stayed by his side the whole time, walking close but without touching. They both knew that such a small gesture could change a lot of things.
The fresh air greeted them as they stepped into the garden. The sun, now lower, bathed the place in golden light. There were few people, just a couple of nurses in the distance and a few patients taking leisurely walks along the paths.
"I never thought I’d be walking here after everything that happened," Suho said, breaking the silence between them. He walked slowly, unhurried, enjoying each step he could take.
Sieun walked beside him, at a respectful distance, but so close that Suho could feel the warmth of his presence.
"What if you thought you weren’t going to wake up?" Sieun said, his tone a little more serious, but not unkind.
Suho glanced at him sideways and smiled, a little embarrassed.
"No, of course not... though at first, I wasn’t so sure." Suho paused for a moment, looking at the flowers growing in a small pot. He didn’t know why, but something in them made him think about how his life had changed since the accident. He thought maybe life was like those flowers: fragile, but with growth potential that wasn’t always visible at first glance.
Sieun looked at him silently. After a few seconds, he said:
"I’m glad you’re here. It’s strange, but... I’m glad to see you recovering."
Suho looked at him, surprised by his sincerity, by his direct way of saying what he thought without embellishments.
"I’m glad you came to see me, even if it’s strange," Suho replied, unable to hide the softness in his words.
At that moment, he stood facing him, as if the space between them mattered. Sieun made a small, almost imperceptible grimace, and then began to walk again, but with a step closer to Suho’s.
They continued walking, in silence, letting the calm of the garden say everything.
A few minutes later, as they were near a bench, Sieun stopped.
"Are you getting tired?" he asked, not quite turning to look at him, but with a touch of concern in his voice.
"No," Suho replied, without a doubt. "I’m fine."
Sieun observed him, as if to make sure he wasn’t pushing himself too hard.
"Then, shall we continue?"
"Of course." Suho smiled, lighter than before. Something in his chest felt calmer, as if things were finally starting to fall into place.
After another moment of walking in silence, they reached a quiet corner of the garden, where they sat on a bench, side by side. The wind blew gently, causing some leaves to fall, as if nature itself was inviting them to stay a little longer.
Sieun didn’t say anything at first, just looking at the flowers, as if trying to avoid a thought. But then, with a soft sigh, he said:
"I guess I haven’t been very clear, have I?"
Suho looked at him, intrigued.
"In what way?"
Sieun didn’t look at him immediately, but in the end, he let out a shy smile.
"Well... after everything that happened... it seems like I never told you how much I care about you. Or how much I miss you."
Suho fell silent, processing his words.
Finally, after a long pause, he said softly:
"I miss you too, Sieun."
They both stayed silent, side by side, without the need for more words. It was one of those quiet pauses, as if the real conversation was deeper than words could express.