TATMFL - 53

Two full days passed before Ra-on finally regained consciousness after falling ill.

Her vision blurred and flickered in and out of darkness, and whenever she briefly came to, all she could see was Hye-sung.

It wasn’t until midday on the second day, under Hye-sung’s devoted care, that she fully regained her senses.

“Ra-on.”

Hearing the desperate tone in his voice, Ra-on slowly opened her eyelids.

“Are you feeling a bit better?”

Instead of answering, she simply blinked sluggishly. That alone seemed to be enough for him to exhale in relief as he tightly grasped her hand. The lukewarm temperature of his palm suggested that her fever still hadn’t completely subsided.

Ra-on tried to grip his hand back, but soon winced at the tingling sensation and foreign discomfort in her arm.

Noticing her reaction, Hye-sung sighed, “Ah,” and turned his head to the side. Following his gaze, Ra-on looked puzzled as she spotted an IV needle inserted into her arm.

“A doctor named Professor Yang came by.”

Professor Yang? Ra-on blinked, silently asking for clarification. Hye-sung hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“He was sent by… Senior Do-kyung.”

Though Hye-sung referred to Do-kyung as “Senior,” his expression betrayed uncertainty about whether this was the right way to address him. Still, lacking any other appropriate term, he continued with a strange look on his face.

“He came to prescribe pheromone suppressants and stomach medication, but when he saw how unwell you were, he administered an injection.”

The fact that Do-kyung had sent the doctor left a bitter taste in Ra-on’s mouth, but there was nothing she could do about it. Just as they were about to take her to the hospital because her fever wouldn’t break, the doctor arrived at their home. Refusing his help would have been unthinkable, especially since he was Do-kyung’s personal physician—surely someone skilled.

Pausing there, Hye-sung gently pressed his hand against Ra-on’s forehead and smiled faintly.

“It’s a relief. Your fever has gone down significantly.”

As he stood up, he added,

“Wait here. I’ll bring you something to drink.”

With that, Hye-sung exited the room, leaving Ra-on to watch him through her still-hazy eyes.

Even in that brief exchange, it was clear Hye-sung was deliberately avoiding mentioning that night.

Rightfully so. Who could calmly recount witnessing such an embarrassing scene involving a close friend?

Believing, as Do-kyung’s words had implied, that Hye-sung had seen everything, Ra-on squeezed her eyes shut in despair. Her pupils burned as if they were being scorched from within.

Just then, Hye-sung returned with water. In his hands was a tray carrying warm water and a bowl of porridge.

“Eat some porridge and take your medicine, Ra-on. Then rest a little more.”

Carefully removing the IV needle from her arm as instructed by Professor Yang, Hye-sung set it aside and helped Ra-on sit up.

“...I’ll eat.”

Waving off his offer to feed her, Ra-on reached out weakly. Though her hands trembled from two days without food, she could still manage a spoonful.

After eating half the bowl of porridge and dutifully taking her medication, Ra-on closed her eyes.

Slipping into sleep almost instantly, she began to dream.

Perhaps it was because she’d briefly recalled that day just before drifting off. Standing before her in the dream was Do-kyung.

He held a piece of paper in his hands, which he proceeded to tear to shreds right in front of her. It was the contract bearing both Hye-sung’s and her names.

His expression radiated sheer disgust as he said, “Let’s end this relationship.”

‘Damn that Jihyung, Jihyung.’

‘Do you have nothing to say to me unless it’s about Jihyung, Ra-on?’

Leaving behind these parting words—words he’d never actually said in reality—Do-kyung turned his back and walked away.

Coldly, as though severing all ties forever, leaving only the torn remnants of the contract behind.

And Ra-on could do nothing but stand there, watching him leave. No sound escaped her lips, and it felt as though invisible chains bound her entire body, rendering her unable to move even a finger.

Thud. Her heart plummeted, rolling at her feet.

It was a strange dream.

---

Two weeks had passed since that day.

Setting her brush down, Ra-on reflexively picked up her phone—a habit she’d developed—and began clearing out unnecessary notifications.

Through the large window of the studio, the tree that had once shed pale pink petals now sported vibrant green leaves.

April, with all its ups and downs, had ended, and May had arrived. The weather was growing warmer, and clothing lighter.

At the same time, having skipped class for nearly a week, Ra-on had been buried under a mountain of work, spending the past seven days holed up in the studio.

“Have I overdone it?”

Pressing firmly on the stiff muscles at the back of her neck, Ra-on leaned back in her chair. Her limbs felt as heavy as if she were carrying sandbags, making it difficult to hold her brush. She wondered vaguely whether she might be getting sick again, despite having recovered not long ago. Surely, it couldn’t happen so soon.

Warm, sluggish air wafted in through the open window meant for ventilation, lulling her into drowsiness.

“Spring fatigue, maybe?” Ra-on muttered.

Just then—

“You seem particularly unfocused today.”

“...Professor.”

Unaware of when he had arrived, her instructor was examining her painting. Arms crossed, he glanced meaningfully at Ra-on while appraising the artwork.

“Feeling lonely lately?”

“What?”

“This painting feels too cold.”

Chuckling lightly as if joking, the professor patted Ra-on on the shoulder.

“You look terrible. After pushing yourself so hard these past few days... I think it’s best you call it a day and go home to rest.”

“But, Professor, I’m really not feeling well today either!”

“Yes, Yoo Hyun, if you don’t finish that by today, you can’t go home.”

“Ah, Professor!”

Amidst the banter between the professor and her classmates, Ra-on managed a small laugh, swallowing dryly. Her throat felt scratchy—perhaps she was coming down with a cold. She recalled hearing on the news that colds were going around due to the drastic temperature changes between day and night.

Staring blankly at the painting she’d worked on throughout class, Ra-on sighed. The stark branches jutting out against the barren landscape certainly evoked a sense of desolation worthy of criticism.

Pressing her throbbing temples, Ra-on exhaled deeply. It seemed she should head home and get some rest.

When Ra-on returned home, Hye-sung wasn’t there. Recalling his schedule, she realized he had tutoring sessions all day and likely wouldn’t return until late.

Lunchtime had long passed, but she didn’t feel hungry. Closing the refrigerator door without finding anything appealing, she slumped onto the couch in the living room.

Her unfocused gaze drifted upward to the ceiling, blurring into a haze. She felt as though she might drift off to sleep at any moment.

But...

“Hah.”

Placing her arm over her forehead, Ra-on let out a sigh.

Even if she fell asleep now, she doubted she’d rest well. As had been the case for the past few nights, she’d probably wake up drenched in cold sweat after only a short while.

The nightmares tormenting her varied in content but always ended the same way.

[Do you have nothing to say to me unless it’s about Jihyung, Ra-on?]

Do-kyung would hurl those words at her before walking away, leaving her standing motionless amidst the shredded remains of their contract.

Every time she woke from that dream, her head felt heavy, and her throat constricted as if pierced by thorns.

In her dreams, shouldn’t she rejoice if Do-kyung finally released both Hye-sung and herself? Yet, why did she keep waking up startled, burdened with unease?

“...”

Suddenly, Ra-on sneered.

She wasn’t entirely clueless about what might be causing these dreams.

Perhaps they stemmed from anxiety. What if Do-kyung abandoned Hye-sung’s affairs altogether, passing them off to someone else? What if dark clouds loomed over Hye-sung’s life again, just as things were starting to improve?

Maybe that stress was manifesting in these restless dreams.

Thinking this far, Ra-on clamped her mouth shut. Somewhere, a sharp voice seemed to echo.

...Really?

Then how do you explain not letting go of your phone for even a moment these past two weeks?

Still clutching her phone tightly, Ra-on covered her eyes with her arm and muttered inwardly.

Right. Why did I do that?

Since that day, Do-kyung hadn’t contacted her once. He’d stopped sending the occasional updates or greetings he used to send, even on weekends.

It felt as though she’d reverted to a time when she didn’t know Han Do-kyung—a time when her life was unremarkable. She’d managed those days fairly well: doing assignments, working part-time jobs, occasionally resting like now.

...So why did everything feel so awkward?

‘Should I call him?’

Tapping her phone rhythmically, Ra-on suddenly flinched at the thought.

Call? Who would call whom?

And if she did call, what would she say?

Staring at the edge of the table visible through her half-lowered gaze, she let out a small, bitter laugh.

There was nothing to say. Between them, their connection was purely physical—what more could there possibly be to discuss?

[Do you have nothing to say to me unless it’s about Jihyung, Ra-on?]

Do-kyung’s voice from her dream mocked her once again. Clutching her phone so tightly that her fingers left marks, Ra-on muttered,

“Exactly.”

She laughed self-deprecatingly, then clenched her teeth.

But tell me, what is there to talk about between you and me if we remove Jihyung from the equation? What should I say?

Her jaw muscles tensed visibly, twitching each time she swallowed.