Prologue
A young man enters the hospital with one hand clutching a bouquet of flowers. He is grasping it quite tightly; the tendons in his lean arms are visible and the knuckles of his right hand are bone white. He enters the elevator and halfway through he licks his dry lips and lets his right arm drop to the side, the newly bought flowers facing the ground. This day was a painful day for him, and it showed in his eyes.
At the same time a girl sits beside a white hospital bed and watches her sleeping brother. Her heart hurts seeing so many tubes and IV's strapped to such a young body. As she reaches a trembling hand to stroke her brothers face tears flow freely down her face.
In an attempt to stop the shaking she quickly clutches the sheets and lets out a shuddering breath. At that moment, she felt like she was the only living thing in the world, so she was startled when he heard a low voice coming from behind the curtain that circled her and her brother.
The young man entered the room where his mother was being held. He gently places the flowers in a glass vase and sets it on the table, along with a book and a card full of careful writing.
Sitting next to the limp form of his mother, he begins to speak.
"Oma," he says, "I know you can't hear me but, happy birthday. I got you a book you might like."
The next words were barely a whisper.
"I should have been a better son. I-I'm sorry." His eyes are burning but no tears come out. "I love you. Happy birthday."
Feeling slightly embarrassed that she heard everything, the girl hurriedly gathers her things and tries to briskly walk out the door. But doing so, her foot catches on a small depression the floor.
"Waaah!" The girl lets out a small shriek. Startled, but thinking quickly, the boy manages to grab her arm before she hits the floor.
Her feet firmly on the floor once again, she looks at the boy who steadied her. She sees a boyish good-looking face with warm eyes and black hair that flops over his forehead. The boy shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at he ground before asking in a gruff voice:
"Are you okay?"
"Ah! Ah, yeh! Kamsahamnida . . . eh, mianhe . . ."
Her face flushed bright red.
"That's good."
They were both awkward with each other, and both didn't know what to say.
"So, it's your mom's birthday?" the girl asked, in an attempt to break the silence. But as soon as it came out of her mouth she inwardly cursed at herself for such a bad comment.
"Ah, yeh . . . so you heard everything."
"Sorry . . . I couldn't help but to hear." She bit her lip.
"Gwenchanayo. It's not your fault."
She remembered overhearing two hospital staff talking about a woman who fell into a coma after drug overuse recuperating in the same room as her brother. It didn't mean anything to her back then, but suddenly she felt very sorry for the boy standing next to her.
"So you know why I'm here, what about you?" asked the boy.
"My little brother, he's sick . . . I was just visiting."
"I see . . ."
The two talked and gradually, things became more natural. The girl let the boy see her brother, and the boy let the girl see his mother. They told each other their names; the boy introduced himself as Kwon Ji Yong, and the girl told him her name was Park Min Jae. They were both eighteen. They sat on the bench outside of the hospital room and told each other about themselves and their lives.
"My brother has a disease-a very rare disease." Min Jae told Ji Yong. She paused for a while, her dark hair covering her pale face. "He's going to die. He's only nine." Her voice was very small.
"I'm sorry."
"Me too." Her voice wavered. "I'm sorry too."
Ji Yong spoke, his voice low. "My mom-after my dad left-she started taking painkillers." He swallowed. "We fought a lot. One day I came home, and . . . yeah. She's in a coma. The doctors don't know what's going to happen."
"Oh. I'm sorry." Min Jae's large eyes were full of sympathy.
"You shouldn't be. It's not your fault."
They stayed with each other at the hospital, even after the sky became dark. Min Jae's brother died that day. When she cried, Ji Yong wiped her tears and let her rest on his shoulder. He drove her home that day, and stayed in the apartment with her until she fell asleep.
