ITDW 16

The room was dimly lit, illuminated by lamps placed here and there without any direct lighting. There were only five or six tables, and in front of them, plush sofas were arranged in a circle. Each seating area was partially concealed by a yellowish-painted concrete wall on one side. The concrete wall had a rectangular opening, as if it were a window, which did nothing for soundproofing but served faithfully as a psychological barrier. The music didn’t cut across the space but seemed to embrace it, peaceful.

It was an atmosphere perfectly comfortable for conversation. It was a place for the reunion of lovers who had broken up long ago. Only the teapot, resting on a warmer, stood between them. The one who spoke first was the woman.

“I didn’t think you would seek me out again, after I had failed as a doctor.”

“…That wasn’t your failure. It was an accident.”

“‘You’? That’s an interesting way to address me.”

At those words, Jungyoon looked at the woman. His past love, with a short haircut, wearing a loose-fitting dress like some kind of burlap sack. For a moment, he focused his attention on the two large pockets on the dress. All sorts of odds and ends were probably in those pockets. Little toys, candy, or chocolates, not for her, but for her young patients.

“I’m not sure what a more appropriate term would be. Since you’re older than me, it would be weird to just use your name.”

“Jaeri has grown up a lot.”

The woman smiled. She had seen a young Jaeri once, a long time ago. Though it seemed Jaeri didn’t remember.

“He’s a college student now.”

“You raised him well, Kim Jungyoon.”

“He pretty much raised himself.”

Jungyoon said this while calmly reminiscing, as if rewinding the clock back through all the time since he had brought Jaeri to live with him. The only times he had properly cared for Jaeri were the two years in Chuncheon, and the one year of his internship at the university hospital. That was about it. He was so busy during his cardiothoracic surgery residency that he was barely home, and he didn’t have much free time for a while after joining the company either. He only got some free time after he had ground down Manager Gu’s abilities to plant all of the Jungyoon line’s connections in major affiliate companies, which was only a short while ago. The kid truly did raise himself.

“Looking at the test results, his self-esteem is high. That’s not common in bipolar disorder.”

The woman wasn’t the type to speak idly either. She drank her tea. As always, it was young-leaf green tea. A tea that gave one the feeling of purifying the mind. It was what she, who treated illnesses of the mind, needed.

“I’d like to receive a video recording of each counseling session.”

Jungyoon threw out his demand. The woman chuckled. He was still so much like the man in her fragmented memories.

“That’s against medical ethics.”

“You’ll just act like you don’t know about it.”

Jungyoon retorted as if it were no problem.

The woman rationalized it by thinking that Jungyoon would achieve his goal one way or another. She wanted to treat Jaeri. It might have been because of the experience of failure that remained a scar in her heart, or it could have been a debt.

“Besides what we talked about earlier when Jaeri was here, is there anything else you’re worried about?”

For a conversation between former lovers, it was stilted. Meeting someone you once loved was not the same as encountering a friend. However, whatever feelings remained between them were not large enough to interfere with their purpose. It was as if puddles had formed here and there after a heavy rain; the rainwater remained, but as long as you didn’t step in the puddles, you could walk the path without giving it much thought.

In any case, the woman’s interest and Jungyoon’s interest were aligned. The child’s treatment.

“…Jaeri has been showing a great deal of sexual interest lately.”

“Isn’t that normal for young boys?”

“It’s because my kid is doing things he hasn’t done before.”

Jungyoon said with a slight frown. He was saying he had no interest in other ordinary, average, and typical kids, so there was no need to talk about that, and the woman understood.

“Well… in the comprehensive psychological evaluation, his impulsivity came out low for a bipolar patient. He’s actually on the delicate side, so I don’t think there will be much to worry about sexually. If necessary, you should educate him about proper sexuality. It’s good to have a role model.”

Jungyoon thought about whether he had ever given Jaeri sex education. He had given him sexual assault prevention education, but he had no other memory of it.

“There’s one more thing I need to tell you. Since my specialty is in pediatrics. I think Jaeri might have had childhood depression.”

“Childhood depression?”

“I’m still just suspecting it. If depression starts in childhood, it can become chronic or develop into bipolar disorder. That makes treatment tricky, but the bigger problem is that a distrust of people can solidify like a conviction at a very young age, and it’s difficult to change that thinking.”

“……”

Jungyoon’s lips tightened.

“Jaeri might get confused during the treatment process. While comforting him that it wasn’t his fault, you also have to persuade him that the other people who didn’t understand him back then weren’t necessarily bad people for doing so. He might not want to come to his appointments. Please manage that for me.”

“…Keep me informed about the direction of the treatment. And when you’re treating him, at the very least, don’t bring up Jaeri’s mother.”

Jaeri stared at the business card his new doctor had given him for a long time.

The consultation had gone well. The new doctor was someone he could talk to. She wasn’t overly friendly to the point of being burdensome, nor did she have a pitying attitude, but she also wasn’t so cold as to feel like a prescription-writing machine. Unlike his previous doctors, she didn’t force a greasy, fake smile to try and get on his good side, nor did she make him talk too much, or too little.

Above all, she empathized with the rather abstract expressions he sometimes used. He could tell by looking into the doctor’s eyes. Her eyes were serious when she tried to concretely picture the things Jaeri was saying in her mind.

He liked that simple sincerity, so he had kept the business card the doctor gave him to contact her when he needed to, instead of throwing it in the trash. But.

Comfortable Mind Neuropsychiatry

Specialist Han Yeongsik

This familiar name. Jaeri didn’t know which way to steer his reeling mind. The reasons his head was in turmoil now could not be specified to just one or two things. Jaeri was dazed for a while, then belatedly recognized that his subconscious, faster than his conscious mind, was frantically sounding warning bells, and he began to organize the information and questions that had been coming and going erratically one by one.

First, hyung and the doctor know each other.

Second, the doctor’s name is Yeongsik.

Third, hyung’s ex-lover’s name is Yeongsik.

Fourth, the doctor is a woman.

So,

First, were hyung and the doctor not friends, but lovers?

Second, was hyung not gay?

Third, does hyung want to get back together with that person?

Fourth, if so, have I become the matchmaker?

Fifth, is the name Yeongsik common? —It’s surprisingly uncommon.

Sixth, hyung said the doctor was a ‘truly good person,’ so was the reason he didn’t introduce this good person until now because she was his ex-lover?

Everything he had thought was a mess from the very foundation. He could only watch as his own beautiful house, which he had built with unskilled hands, had been satisfied with all by himself, and had looked forward to cultivating, collapsed in an instant. He felt desolate, as if the things he had worked so hard for had instantly turned to sand and dust, rolling on the floor like trash. It was at once pitiful, infuriating, sad, unfair, and somehow embarrassing.

To think that hyung isn’t gay… The papers on the relationship between genetics and homosexual tendencies that I’d been looking up so diligently every time I went to the library… what meaning did any of that have?

His hyung had left him with Driver Yoon and then gone off somewhere with that woman, saying they had things to talk about. At the time, he had thought it was a meeting between a doctor and a guardian, but now, he couldn’t think of it that way.

Jaeri gnawed at his fingertips. An urgent feeling he could no longer bear made him pick up his phone. The ringtone sounded only a few times before a welcoming voice was heard.

—Jaeri.

“Hyung, when are you coming?”

—I think I’ll be a bit late.

“…Am I eating dinner alone?”

—I’ll be there before dinner.

“…Can’t you please come quickly?”

—…Did something happen to you?

“I’m hungry.”

—Alright. I’ll be there soon.

Even after ending the call, Jaeri paced the living room aimlessly for a long time. His head was churning, so he felt like he had to make his body churn too, to make his physical self less confused.

Suddenly, Jaeri worried that his phone might ring. He was afraid he would hear the words, ‘The housekeeper will take care of your dinner today. Eat it and send me a picture.’

Bad imaginations can be excessively specific. That level of detail soon clothed itself in the thorny garment of anxiety. Because of the thoughts that kept piling up without any resolution, Jaeri couldn’t find his calm the entire time until Jungyoon arrived home. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to call his hyung again to hurry him home.

On his way, Jungyoon stopped by the Hanyoung Hotel and got a takeout of the hotel’s prized seasonal bento box. Although he had someone who came to the house to cook from time to time, it would take at least two hours to order the dish he wanted and have Jaeri eat it. The original plan was to get a little more work done at the office, but since Jaeri said he was hungry, the first thought was that he had to be fed quickly. He wanted to see him eat well.

Perhaps that was why the words Jaeri said while picking at his food and glancing at him didn’t seem so pretty.

“…Hyung, I can’t really eat.”

“You said you were hungry.”

“…I’m not hungry anymore.”

Seeing Jaeri mumbling with his gaze fixed on the table, unable to even look at him, Jungyoon asked.

“Think you can gain 2kg by next week?”

“Yes.”

Jaeri answered right away, thinking Jungyoon would let him stop eating dinner.

“What’s your current weight.”

“…I don’t know.”

“Get up.”

Jungyoon stood up from his dining chair first and headed to the living room, and Jaeri followed him with a slightly worried heart. He gestured with his chin toward the scale placed in a corner of the living room and said.

“Let’s see your weight.”

Jaeri took off his clothes one by one, feeling as if he were getting a test paper graded. When he was down to his underwear, he felt a slight chill. Jungyoon’s gaze fell on Jaeri’s thin body. Jaeri stepped onto the scale. He pressed down hard with his feet, hoping the number would be higher. Jungyoon saw Jaeri’s tensed toes and smiled invisibly. Jaeri’s effort was in vain.

“You’ve lost more.”

Jaeri got off the scale and started to pick up his clothes again.

“Still….”

Jungyoon nodded his head in permission. Forcing him to eat when he resisted this much would only upset his stomach. When Jaeri got an upset stomach, he would vomit until all the tiny blood vessels in his face and neck burst. Nothing good would come of it.

“Drink a glass of soy milk. Once you’re done, I’ll give you a glucose drip.”

“Okay.”

Jungyoon took out a 10% dextrose IV bag. Jaeri, as he was told, took out soy milk from the refrigerator and drank it.

Following the orders of the person right next to him, his insides, which had been churning violently like he had severe seasickness, calmed down a little. It was as if a veteran captain had taken the helm himself, dismissing the inexperienced crewman, when a rough storm hit. Still, a corner of discomfort remained, as if thorns were stuck under all ten of his fingernails.

He didn’t want to go to that clinic anymore. The positive thought that by observing that doctor, he might be able to discover the characteristics of the kind of person his hyung liked briefly popped into his head, but he immediately wanted to smack that thought down. In any case, that doctor named Yeongsik was a woman. It wasn’t something he could achieve just by imitating her. There would be no benefit whatsoever.

He knew by instinct why his hyung had appointed her as his doctor, so he had no idea how to persuade him otherwise. She was probably a truly good person. As a doctor, and as a person. Jaeri’s dilemma began. The next appointment was in just three days.