The weather was gloomy.
Wind blew, and rain poured down.
The clothes he had carefully chosen were completely soaked.
Seo Jeong-won brushed the raindrops off his oversized coat and recalled the last time he saw his brother.
Six years.
No, maybe seven.
He left home when he had just entered middle school.
He slung a black duffle bag over his shoulder and brushed away his small hands grabbing his sleeve, saying he couldn’t come with him.
When he asked if he would return, he didn’t answer.
All he said, in a strained voice, was “Study hard.”
That was the last time.
He only cried, not knowing it would be the end.
Had he known, he would’ve hugged him—at least once.
“Seo Jeong-won?”
He had just turned twenty-one.
Seven years had passed.
“I’m Kwon Tae-hee.”
“Ah…”
“I knew you were young, but you really are just a kid.”
Though his words were slightly rude, he was too stunned to speak when he saw him in person after only hearing his voice briefly.
Seo Jeong-won had never met an adult like him before—especially in appearance.
He forgot why he came and just stared blankly at Kwon Tae-hee.
He looked like something sculpted by a god—or made by one.
He instinctively hunched his shoulders, then straightened and bowed politely.
“Shall we go?”
His voice was cold, but his light brown eyes had a warm glow as they met his.
His lips curved gracefully like a painting.
He looked radiant even under the pale hospital lights.
Cough, cough.
As Seo Jeong-won coughed lightly, he gently reached out and patted his back softly.
Then he made eye contact, speaking kindly as if by habit.
“The late contact… let’s just say it was due to adult circumstances.”
“I’ve been looking after him out of obligation, but recently, the doctor said there’s no hope of recovery.”
While riding the elevator and walking through the hospital, he kept a gentle hand on his back.
Every time he coughed, a concerned look and a soothing touch followed.
“Thank you.”
“Looks like you caught a cold. Your clothes are thin. I’ll take you back later—it’s a long way, isn’t it? From where you came.”
Though he hadn’t said where he came from, he seemed to know.
Seo Jeong-won glanced out the window.
The rain had gotten heavier.
The weather was cold, and he had already spent too much on taxi fare, so it was hard to refuse Kwon Tae-hee’s offer.
After hesitating, he mumbled his thanks and added:
“There was a direct… bus, actually.”
“That’s good. Shall we go in?”
Swish—the door slid open smoothly.
The hospital room was spacious and cool.
Various unfamiliar machines were connected to the person lying in bed.
Half of his face was covered by a respirator, making it hard to tell if it was really his brother.
Beep, beep, beep.
The consistent machine beeps pierced his ears.
Kwon Tae-hee walked over briskly, checked his brother’s condition quickly, then extended his hand to him.
“Come closer.”
His voice was as indifferent as his gaze at the bed.
They were ex-fiancés, but surely they must have loved each other once.
Just like the day he informed him about removing the respirator, his voice held no trace of sadness.
“Why… remove the respirator? Can’t it just stay on?”
“It can. It just costs money.”
“How much?”
Kwon Tae-hee fell silent, thinking carefully.
He seemed to gauge his intention.
He looked at him tense face and shrugged.
“A lot,” he said vaguely.
“A whole lot.”
“It’s not that I begrudge the money. But if there’s no hope, keeping him alive like this seems cruel.”
As he stepped aside, Seo Jeong-won slowly moved forward.
The distance between them closed as his shaky legs carried him to the bedside.
Finally standing right beside the bed, he could clearly see Seo Gyu-won’s face.
The man asleep with the respirator was, without a doubt, his longed-for brother.
His still eyelids, short-cropped hair, and skin so pale it looked gray…
It didn’t seem like he was alive.
“Just a little. If you could wait a bit more… please.”
Tears welled up in his eyes as he saw his brother’s appearance for the first time since becoming an adult.
All the memories they shared were from the days of hardship, and the emotions surged from his throat, hot and overwhelming.
Seo Jeongwon looked up at Kwon Taehee, who was standing beside him, and without realizing it, grabbed his sleeve and asked.
“Please, just a little longer… Can you wait a bit more? He might wake up.”
“Gyuwon will be in pain. He wouldn’t have wanted to meet his younger sibling in this state either.”
“If you just give him more time…”
“It’s been a year without him waking up. Time has been more than enough.”
Kwon Taehee reached out.
His hand, as dry as his voice, felt cold as it touched his.
The long, neat fingertips, unlike the cold voice, carried a warmth that could be felt.
“I’ll… I’ll somehow repay the hospital bills. If you just maintain his breathing support, I’ll find a way.”
“I know it’s painful. I regret that you have to meet him in this condition. But… sometimes, things like this are unavoidable, just like now.”
“I can’t… I can’t send my brother off like this.”
He had no idea how his brother was living, but because they were family, was he really willing to take on hospital bills he didn’t even know the amount of?
It felt like a thought too naive for someone so young.
He didn’t seem stupid, but maybe he was so flustered that he couldn’t think clearly.
“Jeongwon.”
Seo Jeongwon felt a deep sense of despair from Kwon Taehee’s gaze.
There was an overwhelming feeling of pity, but that was all.
It seemed like he had already made up his mind to remove his brother’s breathing support before he even arrived here.
He was anxious.
The thought of removing the ventilator sounded to him like he was planning to end Seo Gyuwon’s life.
“Let’s step out for a moment.”
Kwon Taehee grabbed Seo Jeongwon’s wrist, saying it wasn’t something to discuss in the hospital room.
It was thinner than expected.
Even though he held it over his coat, the thickness felt shallow.
When his hand, wrapped comfortably around his wrist, touched the exposed skin, he unexpectedly felt a thirst he couldn’t explain.
As they crossed the hospital room, Seo Jeongwon kept looking back to check on Seo Gyuwon.
Then, he asked, struggling to catch up with the increasing pace.
“Where…?”
“There’s a lounge.”
“I don’t mind anywhere. Just hurry…”
Kwon Taehee lightly ignored Seo Jeongwon’s opinion.
It wasn’t until they reached the end of the corridor that they found the lounge.
Only then did he release his wrist.
Kwon Taehee, who entered first, pulled out a chair from the table and waited.
Seo Jeongwon, who approached quietly, was seated, and Kwon Taehee sat beside him, not across from him.
“When did you lose contact with your brother?”
“As soon as I entered middle school, my brother manifested as an Omega. At that time, he was already an adult.”
He left home.
“Gyuwon seems to be quite harsh. To cut ties with a younger sibling like this.”