Days went by as his body recovered, and Jihyun told Min-ji a bit more of the wicked tale each time he woke up from the meds. He would spend much of the day asleep, his hand tied to the bed, as is customary for suicide survivors.
The car accident happened during custody battle for his children, and it did not help his case. He was driving recklessly, and while he was always prone to speeding, his mental state had been altered, as his friend had just passed away by then.
He considered telling the court the truth a thousand times, telling the world what he did with Rika, but always decided against it. Jumin was right, after all, even if his methods could be considered cruel. The shame would be too much for them to bear, it would be a stain over them that would never be erased. It is better if they keep living with Ms. Kang until they are of age, for their own protection, even if she is not their relative. She was a pleasant, if serious, woman and took the responsibility to heart. At least he managed to secure visitation rights once a month.
No, there was no other damage apart from the lost hand. No, he does not remember what happened, only that he woke up without it. It was the first time he thought of ending it all, but far from the last.
He visited Rika twice. The first time before Jumin's death, just after the final sentence was proffered, during which she tried to get him back under her thumb, taking advantage of his break-up. He resisted her, with a strength he did not know he had, if only for the constatation of how far she had fallen. The second was as soon as he heard the news. She already knew, and wanted revenge, so he left quickly when he realized she would not talk about anything else and how agitated she was. The last was after the accident, and she recoiled after seeing his stump, then told him to only return when he found a way to get her out of prison.
He did get full ownership of his father's company. He wanted to sell it or to quit his functions, but he wanted for Lucy and Taemin to have it, as a security blanket, should Carolyn go back on her word. The girl, the eldest, was still only fifteen and could not take over such a business. Therefore, he has to attend every single meeting, and he found out his father left the company with millions worth of debts to former employees, that the business itself was marked with corruption. Worse, nobody else seemed interest to fix it.
"I wanted to call you so many times." He admits one day. "I thought you'd know how to find a way to keep my sanity in a corrupted place. But then I remembered what I had done, and I stopped myself."
Min-ji finds his left hand and grabs it in comfort.
"You should have." She says softly. "I would have helped."
"You would. I know you would, and I respect you for it." Jihyun agrees. "But I didn't deserve it."
She blinks back tears.
"You needed it." Min-ji replies, not agreeing nor disagreeing.
"My apartment was deadly silent. Until it wasn't." Jihyun says in another opportunity.
It was after the doctor lowers the medications' doses and he is awake for longer and longer hours each day. Colour returns slowly to his face, and his hair returns to its teal shine. The spark in his eye, however, was still gone.
For a moment, Min-ji wonders if he found someone, but, before she can even remind herself no one came to visit him so far, he adds, "The voices came in and didn't leave."
She waits for him to elaborate, and he does not disappoint. As his depression got worse, day by day, he began to hear his father's voice, telling him about how much of a failure he was. Then came Jumin's, Rika's, sometimes his mother's. Always the same derogatory tone and discourse.
"I knew they were all in my head." He tells her. "But they were impossible to ignore, and they never went away. Even in sleep, I'd hear them in my nightmares."
That was when he looked for a doctor for the first time. He jumped from psychiatrist to psychiatrist, but they all seemed to look at him and see Mr. Kim, not his depressed son.
"None of them looked me in the eye." He explains, his voice absent. "They didn't even seem to be listening, just waiting for me to stop talking so they'd prescribe the most expensive medication available. It was usually the same one, even, I lost count of how many boxes of it I ended up buying."
Min-ji runs circles on his stump. "Why not a therapist, then? Someone who is fully trained to deal with the sort of ill that you are going through."
"I looked for one." He says. "He said he could not make voices go away, and that I needed the 'right pill'. Since I didn't find it, I didn't go back to therapy."
She takes a deep breath. He should have never been treated this way by those supposed to help him. No one should. She remembers her own therapist back in Busan, a woman younger than her but so helpful, and barely manages not to tear up.
"Some nights." He continues. "I'd dream of you."
Jihyun blinks, and he can see he is also trying not to tear up, though far less successful. Unbidden, her thumb goes to that spot under his right eye, wiping one off.
"They were the warmest dreams, but also the worst, because I'd wake up and realize I threw it all away for nothing."
Min-ji does not reply to that last bit. The hospital is not the place and this is not the time for questions of that nature. Soon, soon, she will have her answers.
She hopes she is not making a mistake in being here.
