Chapter Text
Gihun sighed as he killed off the motor. Beads of sweat were collecting on his forehead, but he sat inside his overheated car for a few seconds longer. There was a tightness to his jaw as he brushed a hand through his hair, messing up the combed-back look he'd put it into at home. He swallowed. Whatever. Right now, he couldn't bring himself to care for the stupid sense of order his nervous mind wanted to feign when he'd gotten ready this morning.
"It's okay, I got this," he made himself say. But his vocal cords gave out halfway, the dry wheeze making it sound as convincing as the thin ice building upon a lake on the first day of winter. He looked at his watch. 01:08 pm. Already eight minutes late. He really had to go. Fuck.
A quick gulp of air. Hand shooting out, he did not give himself even a second to overthink it. He opened the car door. The doorbell was shrill and loud when he rang it. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants as he eyed the white, sturdy wood of the door.
Sounds of shuffling, muffled words. Gihun couldn't make them out though. Someone was making their way towards the door.
And then- there she was.
"Hi, dad." Gayoung looked just like he remembered, but at the same time so different. Her hair was longer, her cheeks a little thinner - she'd lost some baby fat. Gihun wouldn't be able to pinch her smile anymore.
His eyes flitted away for a second. Gaze immediately finding the rays of the sun. His pupils bore straight Straight into it. Sharp, burning. The distraction he needed. He couldn't hold it for longer than two seconds.
"Baby," he said, weird shadows still dancing across his vision.
"Appa missed you.” It came out unsteady and croaky, and his eyes stung. Whether from unshed tears or from getting lasered by the sun, he couldn't tell.
Round eyes, trembling smile. Gayoung's expression shone with emotion, and it reminded Gihun of that time she came back from her first school trip. It lasted two days, but seven-year-old Gayoung had never been away from home that long. As if she'd been away for months, she'd ran her hands over their furniture, had hugged her parents as if she hadn't been sure she'd ever see them again. She'd missed them. Had missed Gihun.
But what she didn't know - what Gihun hid behind light jokes and head pets - was that he finally felt like he could breathe again. After two days of not having her in his periphery, asking him what he was doing every three seconds, shooting rolled up tissue paper at him, asking him existential questions he'd like the answer to as well, he thought he'd go insane.
This reminded him of back then. Because, now as well, he'd felt like he'd lost himself along with her.
And then, her mouth opened. "I missed you too, appa." Gihun closed his eyes for a second and forced down a whimper. The words struck him like lightning. But at the same time, they spread warmth through him.
Maybe it was that warmth that encouraged him to stretch out his hand.
"Let's go, I have so much to show you."
Gayoung took it, without hesitation. Palm warm and slightly sticky. Like he remembered it had always been.
Ready to turn around and lead her towards the car, he took a tiny step back. And halted. Someone had cleared their voice, breaking the moment.
His eyes snapped up, focusing on Gayoung's mom for the first time.
Had she been standing behind her the entire time?
There was a tiny crease between her eyebrows, although her mouth was relaxed, face open except for the hint of a frown.
She pursed her lips. “Gihun. Remember she needs to go to bed by--"
Her voice was calm, it was obviously just a gentle reminder, but Gihun cut her off anyway.
"Eight,” he said, just as nicely. Because he did remember. Would never forget. He wanted her and Gayoung to know that.
A nod, a quirk of the head, a corner of the lip twitching. "And for breakfast she always eats…"
"Rice with chicken because she gets an upset stomach if she eats anything too strong after six."
Eunji finally allowed a wide smile to spread on her face. To Gihun, those pearly teeth on display felt like victory. Acceptance and recognition. For
the first time that day, the knot in his stomach unravelled a little.
"I'll take good care of her," he said, sincerity coating his voice.
“I'm not a baby anymore, I can take care of myself," Gayoung petulantly interrupted.
Two pairs of eyes met in an amused stare.“Sure,” Gihun's ex-wife allowed. “Have fun you two.”
For a heartbeat, it seemed like there was something else she wanted to say, facial muscles freezing in place. But then her mouth shut and the bubble burst with a splash.
Loving smile gracing her lips, she allowed Gayoung to step outside.
Big eyes stared up at Gihun, now. He swallowed, holding his daughter’s gaze, trying to portray his good intentions, his wish to be responsible, somebody to rely on again.
So many words sat at the tip of his tongue. Apologies, explanations, pleading.
The only ones that escaped were a short, "We will."
Then, he directed his gaze back towards Gayoung. "Let's go, honey." With an encouraging smile, he swept a gentle hand across her head, careful not to mess up her silky black hair.
----
The door to the apartment swung open, and Gihun pressed together his eyes, not wanting to see the disappointment in his daughters eyes, the incredulity. This was his new apartment? This was where he lived?
He could already hear the gasp, the disgust in her voice.
"So this is...your place?" There she went. Gihun could clearly make out the hesitation in Gayoung's words.
For the first time, he pried open his eyes. The peeling once-white wallpaper, the reddish-brown stain on the carpet that he didn't even want to know where it came from. He scratched his head, even though he really felt like ripping out his hair instead.
"Well-," he breathed. "Yes." There was a second of silence.
Gihun wondered what was going through Gayoung's mind at the moment. Did she regret coming to see him? Did she not want to spend her time inside this shitty hole in the wall? He wouldn't even blame her.
Yet, The notion punched the air out of his lungs. His lips thinned. But before he could beat himself up further, Gayoung spoke again. "It's...well, it's your own place, that's a good start."
Next thing he knew, she turned around to look at him, patting her stomach. "Let's eat something?"
Gihun blinked. Was that- did she-. Did his daughter just gloss over his failure? To protect his feelings?
He nodded so hard he felt his brain swoosh around, his cheeks hurting from how broad his smile was. God bless that girl.
But the next problem presented itself right after.
Never the one to cook, rather living off of cup ramen and other junk food, Gihun felt his cheeks heat up as he presented his daughter their dinner. "It's not very impressive," he said, his teeth stinging. There he went again, not even able to make a nourishing dinner for his little daughter.
But again, his girl reassured him. "You know I love chicken, dad! And those fried noodles look good, if you just...pick out the burnt bits."
He forced out a chuckle. "Uh- Yeah...If you pick out the burnt bits, I guess..."
The two plates barely had enough space on the tiny table in Gihun's kitchen, but luckily, he made it work. He watched as Gayoung took her chopsticks, her cheeks squishing as she chewed.
He grinned at his plate. Some things really don't change after all, do they?
It felt foreign yet familiar, this moment shared between them. During the worst phase of his gambling addiction, Gihun had basically been living in the casino, coming home only at odd hours during the night or day. Half the time, his daughter and wife had been already asleep or off to work and school, leaving him to lounge in an empty home.
He still smacked himself in the head whenever he got flashbacks. Sometimes internally, and sometimes...well, he still had a few bruises littered on his forehead.
"Is it...okay?" Gihun said between chewing. Personally, he couldn't even tell. He liked greasy, he liked unhealthy. Had acquired a taste for that and that alone over the years. Anything else didn't matter to him.
Gayoung's lips quirked up, a little secret smile, as if his antics amused her. "Yeah. It's good, dad. Thank you for making this." A tornado arose inside Gihun. A tornado of warmth, of love, of - god forbid - happiness. His upper teeth kissed his lower lip as a grin spread across his cheeks. Bashfully, he looked down at his plate. "I'm glad, then." Half of his words were swallowed by the food inside his mouth.
Across from him, Gayoung huffed out a laugh. And suddenly, it felt like the world was rotating again, like everything was back in place, the order of nature corrected.
Light chatter flew across the table as they ate their meal. They had a lot to catch up on, but this time, they had time to do so.
It wasn't yet Gayoung's bedtime when they finished, so Gihun proposed they play a game, watch a movie, anything within possibility that Gayoung wanted.
"Let's watch Nemo!" She immediately sprang to suggest.
Nemo.
Gihun's smile fell. A thousand images flashed inside his mind.
Huddled together on the couch, in front of the TV. His daughter singing Dory's little song. Tiny arms flapping up and down as she blabbered "Just keep swimming~"
That movie was something special for them, they always watched it on special occasions. First day of school, during vacations, when Gayoung had the flu and Gihun and Eunji had stayed at her bedside for hours.
"Yeah," he breathed. "Let's watch Finding Nemo."
And so they did.
------
Gihun was in the middle of holding back his tears - he'd been doing so from the second he put the DVD into the DVD player - when a sharp ringing ripped him out of the moment. Someone was calling him.
With a sigh, he took a look at the screen- work.
Irritation rattled through him. What did they want, now?
Gayoung's questioning gaze bored through his body as he paused the movie. He just shook his head.
"Hello?" He said as he picked up. Immediately, a rushed voice shot through the phone.
Every cell of his body tensed.
"Gihun, please, we need you here. Minji called in sick and we have nobody available to cover for her." It was Wonhee, one of his co-workers at the hospital.
The urgency in her voice had him pick at his cuticles, making him restless even through the speakers.
Lowering his voice, Gihun pressed out hushed words, spoken directly into the microphone of his phone. "Wonhee, you know my daughter just got here, I took only short day shifts this week for a reason."
He could feel Gayoung's eyes on him.
"I know Gihun, but this is serious. We really need you."
He cradled his head in his free palm. Why could nothing ever go right for him?
On the other end, Wonhee was waiting for his reply, the silence stretching. Gihun could taste her anticipation as he inhaled a shuddering breath.
What in all hell was he supposed to do now?
He was ripped out of his daze when he felt the soft touch on his shoulder. He looked up, only to be greeted by an encouraging smile. "I'll be okay on my own," Gayoung said.
Immediately, he shook his head. How could he let her- "I'm already twelve dad, I can be alone for one night."
He knew that, "But-"
She rolled her eyes at him. "Just go."
He bit his tongue as he regarded her determined expression. Stubborn to her bones that girl.
The second he opened his mouth to argue even more - "Gihun? Are you still there?" - Wonhee spoke into his ear again, interrupting their debate.
"Yeah." He took another glance at Gayoung, lips flattened into thin line. He sucked in a surge of air.
"Okay. I'll come."
The second Gihun stepped foot into the white walls of the hospital, he realised Wonhee wasn't lying when she said they desperately needed someone to come in.
Scrubs clinging to his body like a second home, Gihun tasted the tension on his tongue.The hospital halls were bustling with people. Nurses running around, patients holding their wounds, coughing violently, looking like they'd drift off to sleep any second.
Unusual for a nightshift, but sadly not impossible. It was pure horror for the staff. "Gihun. O negative needed at OP3," came from his pager. And just like that, all thoughts were forgotten as he was pulled into the
whirlwind of work.
Gihun was leaning against the wall, taking a short breather when he was needed again.
"Wound care ER room 4."
Legs wobbling, he fell into a jog.
Down the stairs, turning around a corner, following the hallway. A steady pounding inside his head his only company.
He wanted to bang his head against a wall, maybe that would stop the headache, the tension in his- *everywhere*.
Not bothering to slow down, he turned sharply around a corner. Maybe that was his mistake, because a heartbeat later -
Hot!
Burning hot liquid ran down his front.
"Fuck," he hissed.
"Gosh, I'm so sorry!" A panicked screech reached his ears. "Are you okay?"
A young, surprised face greeted him. Glasses askew, cheeks red. Probably a med student. His white coat looked like a costume on him, still.
Gihun looked down at his shirt, now ruined by a dark brown stain. Closing his eyes, he clenched a fist.
"Yeah, I'm okay, don't worry about it." At least the cofee had cooled down quickly, he thought drily.
His pager crackled to life. "Gihun? Wound care ER room 4. Hurry." Fuck.
With barely another glance at the med student, he started running again, the soles of his crocs squeaking on the polished floors.As he ran, he could feel the wet splotch on his chest turn cold, sticking to his skin. He grimaced. Just his luck again.
After this patient, he needed to find some time to change.
Lost in mind, he nearly missed room four.
"Oh," he yelped. Pressed his feet into the floor to stop.
Chest still heaving, he took a moment to get his breathing under control. Inhale, hold, exhale. Although he wanted nothing more than to turn around and go lie down in the duty room, he stepped forward through the doorway.
Without even greeting him, the doctor gestured for him to stand by his side. In front of them, a patient was lying on his stomach on the examination table.
There was a gnarly wound on the back of his head, although it was difficult for Gihun to assess the damage with the blood smeared all over.
"Mild TBI, no significant brain damage, some hemorrhage around the wound already. Needs sutures and dressing." The doctor's grey hair was all that greeted Gihun as he worked on preparing everything he needed for the procedure.
"Got it," he said, already getting to work as well, but not before...
"Hello, Mr....," he looked at the folder next to the patient. "Hwang. I'm nurse Seong and I will assist doctor Oh in taking care of you."
The patient couldn't see his gentle smile, but still he did his best to be as gentle and soothing as possible, making his voice and words sound warm and light.
A reply was mufled by the padded material of the examination table, but Gihun thought he could make out a "Thank you".
"Gihun." The doctor's stern voice smacked the smile off his face.
"Coming!" He meticulously prepared everything he needed for cleaning the wound, as well as for the sutures and dressing.
With careful but steady hands, he began to wash away the blood and disinfected the wound. It had to be stinging awfully, but all that came from the body beneath him were sighs of what sounded like impatience.
"Just a few more minutes, Mr Hwang, you're doing really well," he said anyway, for good measure.
"Syringe." The dry command ripped him out of the moment.Biting his lip, Gihun continued working, brushing away the spark of annoyance he felt.
When the pain killer was administered, he felt a sense of pride at how calm the man on the table still was. He knew first hand that the shot stang like hell, but he also knew that after this, the worst part was over.
The doctor started suturing soon afterwards, Gihun by his side to provide anything he needed in the process.
Silence permeated the room as the older man worked, only the slightly laboured breathing of their patient heard, matching the constant rise and fall of his dress shirt-clad back. Somehow, he managed to look proper even in his current position.
Seeing even just his back view, there was a professional aura permeating from his form. The way he let the doctor work without a sound of protest, as if he had somewhere else to be and needed this to be over quickly. The perfect image of composure.
"You can finish off here, Gihun." The doctor stepped away from the examination table. Plastic squeaked as he took off his gloves.
And then, Gihun was alone with the patient - Mr Hwang, he remembered.
"The wound needs to be dressed now," he explained. "It's best if you sit up for this part."
He turned around, fetching everything he needed from the stock of supplies in the corner of the room.
For good measure, he put on fresh gloves, mind already on his task as his feet steadily moved across the floors. Looking at the metal tray in his hands, he assessed if he had all the materials he needed. Disinfectant, plaster, gauze...
Only then did he look up, focusing on the form now sitting upright. That back was straight as a rod, a shoulders laid back and proper. His hair was slightly rufled from the sutures, having been handled with no care for looks.
And then, Gihun's eyes fell onto his face.
And his heart stopped.
Thump.
Thump.
His mouth felt dry.
That man-. Sharp nose, chisled jawbone, those *lips*.
A cough ripped him out of it."We can start now."
Gihun felt the heat in his cheeks. "Ah, yes." He forced out a laugh, but it came out all the wrong way. Stilted, breathless.
"This might sting a little."
He felt the other's eyes on the brown stain on his shirt as he disinfected the closed wound. He felt them on his hands as he shakily ripped the packaging of the plaster. Felt them on his back as he discarded the flimsy plastic.
His legs felt like sticks as he walked back, the weight of that gaze descending upon him like a too-heavy blanket.
The practiced ease left him as he went through the exact same motions as every single shift, except this time his fingers are trembling slightly, his mind having to concentrate on each step.
Gihun's hands inevitably brushed brushed against Mr Hwang's hair as he worked. It was silky, smooth, the shadow of a cool, smooth scent wafting up his nose. He tried his best not to inhale it, keep the scent from messing with his brain. More than it already was.
"There. All done." Finally, he turned away, took off his gloves, and breathed. The squeaky smell of the latex a sharp reminder to snap back into fucking reality and be normal.
"Thank you,..." The other lifted an eyebrow, eyes sweeping up before they landed on Gihun's face.
"Seong Gihun. You can call me nurse Gihun." He tried to ignore how out of breath it sounded.
Lips parted as Mr Hwang revealed his straight, white teeth. Fuck. That smile.
"I'm Inho. Nice to meet you, Gihun."
A hand was held out to him. Gihun blinked. Then, he shook it. "Likewise."
Warmth seeped from that palm. Inho didn't grip him too loosely, not too tightly. A perfect handshake.
For a second, Gihun wondered if the other had practiced that. If he'd trained himself to give the most perfect handshake.
The next second, he wanted to slap himself. What a stupid thought. Why did he even care?
Inho's tongue flicked out as he licked his lips. Before he could stop himself, Gihun's eyes darted towards the flash of pink.
"I had quite the evening," Inho sighed. Then, a grin. "But I must admit, your care just turned my mood around."
Gihun's mouth fell open. Then, he noticed that he was still holding the other's hand. Or rather, his hand was still being held.
Like he was electrocuted, he retracted his limb. "Hah," he huffed out a thin laugh. "Great. Always glad to hear that. Haha."
He eyed the white gauze wrapped around the man's head, making his hair stick up weirdly. It looked almost endearing. Dark grey suit, black tie...and then that messy hair.
"What even happened?" He found himself asking. Such a proper man, the victim of assault? Why would such a thing happen?
Instead of wincing at the question, or maybe even reacting with anger, Mr Hwang clicked his tongue and pulled his mouth into an annoyed grimace. As if it was a mere inconvenience to him.
"A customer of ours thought it my fault that he lost his fortune. Foolish man decided to attack me in the company garage." He shook his head, as if he was disappointed in humanity.
Gihun frowned. "Why would that even be your fault, you didn't force him to spend money."
"Some people are too stupid to handle their own finances and make me responsible for their poor decisions." Already over the topic, Mr Hwang's eyes took in every single shift in Gihun's expression. The attention had Gihun's stomach tingling.
"You're right, that does sound a little..." He trailed of, huffing out a breathless chuckle.
“Insane?” Inho finished the sentence for him. Head tilted, a smirk playing on his lips. “That is humanity, Gihun. Working my job, you will realise that some people are just... scum." The words were icy, but they slipped from his lips like a poem. Hissed through soft lips.
Gihun was taken aback by the choice of vocabularly. Something about that word had a familiar feeling arise in him. It felt claustrophobic, caging, it ripped onto him ferociously. Yet, there was...recognition, identification. Suddenly, ants were crawling all across his skin. Some place inside his brain blaring alarms. He couldn't put his finger on why, but those words, they seemed to ring through his memory, touching neurons long greyed and forgotten.
Right when he opened his lips, wanting to argue back, tell the other that maybe his way of thinking was too extreme, too harsh, his pager beeped, crackling to life. “Blood transfusion needed in room F10”
A dull second of silence.
“On it,” he spoke into the device, although reluctantly.
Body already angled towards the exit, he shot another look at Mr Hwang. “You can go home now, your sutures will be removed in a week. Until then, don't get it wet and try to rest.”
He nodded at the patient.
Before he could leave, a “Wait” reached his ears. He faced Mr Hwang. And a hand clasped his. Again.
Gihun blinked.
“Thank you, Gihun. See you soon.”
And then, Mr Hwang was gone.
Gihun looked at his palm. In it, there was a card. Minimalist, black and white, cursive letters written neatly.
“Hwang Inho - Betting on your future”
Before Gihun's eyes could reach the phone number written in the bottom right corner, he suddenly felt numb all over.
That company.
That's where he used to gamble. Where he lost everything he had, including his wife, his mother, his daughter.
And suddenly, something came to him.
Hwang had deserved that damn bottle thrown onto his thick head.