Come Looking for Flowers Chapter 6.4 - Falling Petals

Seeing Yoonjo lost in thought, the elder stood up. Yoonjo’s gaze followed him upward.

“Rest up. I’ll go prepare dinner.”

“Oh, I’ll help.”

“Help with what, looking like that? Just sit still. If you disappear without a word again, I won’t let it slide.”

Without waiting for a reply, the elder left the room. Left alone, Yoonjo swallowed a small sigh. His hand, patting the girl, remained steady.

The surroundings were unchanged. Every piece of furniture, every strip of wallpaper, even the cord hanging from the ceiling light stayed in place.

The musty smell of the old house, mixed with a stale odor, wasn’t exactly pleasant, even if dressed up nicely. Yet, it felt good. So good that he wanted to stay for a long, long time.

“Mm…….”

The girl let out a small groan, curling up. Worried she might wake, Yoonjo softly shushed and soothed her. The girl, asleep with her head on Yoonjo’s thigh, seemed a bit bigger than the last time he saw her.

Looking at the girl, an unnamed tenderness stirred. His heart ached. If asked why, he couldn’t answer.

“Chaei-ya.”

His soft voice fell over the girl’s head. No reply came from the girl, deep in sleep.

“Oppa, don’t go…….”

Mumbled sleep-talk slipped out like a breath. Seeing those small lips, Yoonjo swallowed the sobs threatening to burst.

They said the girl was full of affection. And that was true. Though they hadn’t spent much time together, the girl remembered Yoonjo, running to him and crying in his arms the moment she saw him.

He never thought he’d be remembered by anyone. His presence wasn’t that significant, and there was no one around to remember him.

“I’m sorry, Chaei-ya.”

“…….”

“I’m sorry.”

All he could say was an apology. It was the best he could offer the girl, lacking the strength or ability to give more.

He ate a proper meal for the first time in a while. The simple spread had no meat, but Yoonjo finished it happier than ever.

Waking up, the girl clung to Yoonjo, refusing to let go. Despite Yoon Chaemin’s jealousy, her stubbornness held firm. Yoon Chaemin’s voice was sulky after being rejected by the girl for the eighth time.

“Chaechae, how can you choose oppa over your dad?”

“Oppa’s pretty.”

“Isn’t Dad pretty?”

“……Oppa’s a little prettier.”

The girl mumbled, burrowing into Yoonjo’s arms. Yoon Chaemin’s face dropped, his eyebrows sagging in mock shock.

They had just returned to the room after dinner. Unable to ignore a ringing phone, Yoon Chaemin stepped out, but the girl didn’t care, chattering away. She vented her grievances, shared happy moments, and suddenly pouted, lips jutting out.

“Oppa, where did you go? I missed you so much. Grandpa cried a lot too.”

“……Grandpa did?”

“Yeah.”

Yoonjo’s eyes widened slightly at the unexpected news. The girl, playing with Yoonjo’s hand, continued.

“But Grandpa doesn’t know I know. So only you can know, oppa. It’s a secret, okay?”

“……Yeah. Got it.”

“Promise!”

The girl held out her pinky. At her pure gesture, Yoonjo smiled softly, entwining his finger with hers. The tiny hand was warmer and softer than any other.

“So, oppa, are you gonna stay with Chaei forever now?”

“Huh?”

When Yoonjo didn’t answer right away, the girl grumbled.

“Are you gonna leave suddenly again?”

“No, no. If I leave this time, I’ll tell you.”

“You’re gonna leave? Without Chaei?”

“…….”

“I wanna stay with oppa forever…….”

He couldn’t bring himself to speak. Even a common lie about staying together wouldn’t come out. He didn’t want to hurt the girl, already wounded by him, with empty promises.

As he hesitated, the door opened, and the elder entered. In his hands was a plate full of fruit. He scolded the girl, still sitting on Yoonjo’s lap.

“Han Chaei, get down.”

“No way!”

The girl turned and wrapped her arms tightly around Yoonjo’s neck. The strength was unbelievable for a child. Yoonjo’s face crumpled slightly as he let out a small groan.

“Chaei’s not getting off oppa today! What if oppa leaves me again?”

“Han Chaei.”

“I’m not getting down!”

The girl’s cry sounded so desperate. After a moment’s hesitation, Yoonjo quietly hugged her. That embrace triggered the girl’s tears.

Her loud sobs were heartbreaking. Yoonjo patted her small back, letting out a soft voice.

“Chaei-ya, I’m not going today.”

“……Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow too.”

“The day after tomorrow?”

“I’ll be with Chaei the day after tomorrow too.”

Her wrenching sobs stopped abruptly. The girl, clinging to Yoonjo, pulled away suddenly.

“For real?”

“Yeah, for real.”

“Really for real?”

“Really for real.”

Her tear-soaked face lit up instantly. With the happiest smile in the world, the girl threw herself back into Yoonjo’s arms.

The girl smelled lovely. The scent only a loved child could have. Yoonjo recalled that nostalgic fragrance, once his own, from her. The elder, watching them, clicked his tongue.

“Preferring some guy who rolled in from who-knows-where over her own grandpa…… They say raising a granddaughter is pointless, and that’s exactly right.”

His scolding tone was laced with sulky affection. A strange feeling enveloped Yoonjo.

“Stay as long as you want. If you leave, just say so.”

“……I will. Thank you. And I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry. I’m not here to hear that.”

Saying sorry was a habit. At the elder’s rebuke, Yoonjo quietly bit his lip. If he opened his mouth, another apology would surely spill out.

“Put the kid down and eat some strawberries. Han Chaei, come down.”

“No way!”

“I’m fine. I’ll eat gratefully.”

Yoonjo speared a strawberry with a fork for the girl and popped one into his own mouth with his hand. The sweet and tart strawberry softly filled his mouth.

Eating a meal and even fruit after so long didn’t upset his stomach; it warmed his heart. He felt like he might cry.

“Oppa, is it yummy?”

“……Yeah. It’s yummy.”

With a strawberry in his mouth, he could hide his choked-up voice a bit. He couldn’t hide his reddened eyes, but the girl didn’t notice, beaming brightly.

The elder and the girl welcomed him, someone who showed up out of nowhere and left without a word, as if it were nothing. No, welcomed wasn’t quite right—it was more like they embraced him warmly.

He hadn’t expected such a warm reception. They only knew each other’s names, and Yoonjo had never shared his situation.

The elder, treating him like a son, and the girl, smiling as if reunited with a longed-for family member, made him feel so grateful and sorry.

“Oppa, are you crying? Don’t cry—”

A small hand wiped Yoonjo’s cheek. The moment he realized his tears had burst, they poured out like a dam breaking.

“Is Chaei too heavy……? Should Chaei get down?”

“No. No, it’s not that. It’s not because of Chaei.”

He roughly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. His forced smile trembled at the corners. His head dropped forward.

After a moment’s hesitation, the girl hugged Yoonjo. With her small body, she embraced him, patting his back as he had done for her.

He tried to hold back, but her touch snapped the last thread. Eyes squeezed shut, clutching the girl’s clothes, Yoonjo cried for a long time. His sobs filled the room.

Time hadn’t passed this quickly without sleep in a while. It was the first time since waking from that long slumber.

The girl chattered endlessly, and Yoonjo listened, nodding or chiming in. Yoon Chaemin was nowhere to be seen.

“Sleep well, oppa.”

“You too, Chaei.”

“You can’t run away while Chaei’s sleeping. Okay?”

“Yeah. I won’t go.”

“Yay. Good!”

The little girl burrowed into Yoonjo’s arms. Hugging him tightly with her small arms, she tossed and turned before settling down.

Repeating not to leave or run away in a sleepy voice, the girl was soothed by Yoonjo. He patted her back and answered her countless questions one by one.

Even after the girl fell into a deep sleep, Yoonjo couldn’t. His mind, patting the small body, was full of thoughts.

Was this all a dream? Would the girl in his arms, the old, hard pillow, and the cord on the light vanish when he woke? Such thoughts kept rising.

Yoonjo held the girl more tightly.

Even if it was a dream, it felt okay. At least in this moment, since arriving here, only good memories remained. He could hold onto this dream and be happy for a few days.

But really, he hoped it wasn’t a dream. If even this place turned out to be ruins, he felt he’d truly crumble.

“Chaei-ya. Where’s your dad?”

“Chaei’s dad?”

It was the third day since arriving at the rural house. Yoon Chaemin, who had been there on the first day, was nowhere to be seen. The girl, hearing the question, didn’t tilt her head but pointed somewhere.

“Dad’s probably in that small room over there.”

“……That room?”

The place she pointed to was a space next to the room Yoonjo was staying in. In all his time here, that door had never opened.

Was something wrong? As Yoonjo moved toward it, the girl, sensing something, clung to his leg.

“No!”

“Huh?”

“You can’t go!”

Her face was more resolute than he’d ever seen. Yoonjo crouched slightly to meet her eyes.

“Why not?”

“Dad said if oppa tries to go into the small room, Chaei has to stop him.”

“……Dad said that?”

“Yeah!”

The girl nodded gravely, as if entrusted with a critical mission.

His gaze, looking down at the girl, shifted to the door where Yoon Chaemin was.

The instruction not to enter only deepened his worry. Was he sick? Concern clouded Yoonjo’s face.

“Oppa! We’re supposed to do coloring—”

The girl shook side to side, urging Yoonjo. After staring at the suspicious door, he turned away, gently stroking her cheek. A small, faint smile touched his lips.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Hurry, hurry!”

Perhaps because he’d left without a word before, the girl was clingy. She rarely left his side and slept stuck to him like a koala.

Today, too, the girl fell asleep in his arms, one hand holding a crayon, the other clutching his clothes, looking quite determined.

Yoonjo gently stroked her hair, quietly swallowing a sigh.

The house was silent as the girl napped. The elder was at a neighbor’s, and Yoon Chaemin…

“Is he really unwell…….”

His gaze naturally turned to the side, toward the room where Yoon Chaemin was.

Normally, he’d be busy playing with the girl, so his absence naturally raised concern. Her words added to it.

‘If oppa tries to go into the small room, Chaei has to stop him.’

Her voice from earlier brushed past his ears.

Why was he told not to enter? Was it exhaustion from the long drive? Was he sick?

Worry moved Yoonjo to stand. Careful not to wake the girl, he softened his steps and left the room, heading straight for the door in question.

Standing before it, Yoonjo clenched his fist, hesitating. The tightly shut door seemed to warn him not to enter, exuding an eerie aura.

Just check how he’s doing and leave. If he’s sick, get medicine or suggest a hospital. With that brief resolve, he knocked. The sound felt ominous today.

“Mr. Yoon Chaemin.”

He called, but no sign of life came from inside. Frowning, Yoonjo knocked again.

“Mr. Yoon Chaemin, is something wrong?”

Again, no response. Knocking once more, Yoonjo reached for the doorknob. That’s when a stern voice rang out.

“No!”

The elder, appearing out of nowhere, grabbed Yoonjo’s wrist. Before he could react, he was dragged away from the door. The elder’s eyes burned fiercer than ever.

“You can’t go in there!”

“E-Elder……!”

The elder released him only after entering the room where the girl slept. Yoonjo, clutching his sore wrist, couldn’t hide his confusion. The elder hadn’t been this angry since Yoonjo went to the sea alone.

“Don’t mind that room. Pretend it doesn’t exist.”

Recognizing the sleeping girl, the elder lowered his voice. But his anger remained.

Why was he so furious? The situation made no sense. He just wanted to check on Yoon Chaemin.

What was happening with Yoon Chaemin that both were so desperate? Yoonjo, still holding his wrist, slowly spoke.

“……I heard Mr. Yoon Chaemin is in that room.”

The elder was silent, his displeased face fixed on the girl.

“Is something wrong with Mr. Yoon Chaemin?”

“…….”

“……If it’s because of me—”

“Enough nonsense.”

The elder cut off Yoonjo’s self-blame sharply. Rubbing his wrinkled face roughly, he let out a heavy, murky sigh.

“Just live here comfortably. Don’t waste your heart on pointless things.”

“…….”

“Especially don’t bother with that guy. He can take care of himself, so there’s no need to worry.”

“…….”

“If I catch you trying to go in there again, you’ll be in trouble.”

With that warning, the elder left quickly, as if he had nothing more to say. Yoonjo, unable to follow, sat like a sinner, fidgeting with his fingers.

He knew better than anyone that the elder and Yoon Chaemin weren’t on good terms. But even so, they were family—did it make sense not to check on him even once?

“……I’m worried.”

His muttered words were heavy with concern. He’d received so much help from Yoon Chaemin, but the fact that he could do nothing for him weighed on his heart.

When the girl woke, the elder placed her in Yoonjo’s arms, and they headed to the market. Like the house, the market was unchanged. The difference was Yoonjo’s state. He could now move through crowds with relative ease.

“Oppa! Chaei wants taiyaki!”

Buried in her scarf, the girl bounced in place. Holding her hand, Yoonjo smiled softly, fixing her scarf and wiping red bean paste from her lips.

“It’s hot, so eat carefully.”

Seeing her hold the cup firmly with her small hands, Yoonjo let out a quiet chuckle. The more he looked, the more lovable she was.

Eating her taiyaki eagerly, the girl tilted her head. She seemed to think Yoonjo was watching because he wanted some.

“Does oppa want some?”

“I’m okay. Eat lots, Chaei.”

“I’ll give you a bite! Here!”

The girl offered her taiyaki without hesitation. Despite eating so eagerly, she held out the half-eaten treat, her eyes sparkling with expectation.

About to refuse, Yoonjo changed his mind. Gently holding her hand, he took a small bite. When he ate, her flushed cheeks puffed up with a bright smile.

“Yummy, right?”

“……Yeah. It’s yummy.”

The warm, sweet red bean clung to his tongue. Yoonjo patted her head and held her small hand a bit tighter.

Just going to the market to shop and taking a bite of the taiyaki the girl generously offered filled Yoonjo’s heart. Yet, at the same time, a part of him felt an emptiness, as if his insides were hollow.

The feeling of missing something. That emptiness tormented Yoonjo daily.

However, since coming here, he no longer wandered the streets at night in his sleep, as he did when living alone at home. Nightmares persisted, but compared to sleepwalking, they were bearable.

Maybe, if he lived like this, he could eventually live an ordinary life like others. Clinging to that one hope, Yoonjo endured. He had to endure.

The girl’s hand was warm. On the path he walked with the elder and the girl, there were no obstacles. It truly felt like paradise.

And it didn’t take long to realize it was the calm before the storm.

On a night when even the moon was hidden by clouds, Yoonjo, who had fallen asleep with the girl, groggily opened his eyes.

The old wall clock pointed to three in the morning. It was far earlier than his usual waking time.

Unable to fall back asleep, Yoonjo carefully got up and drank from a glass of water in the corner of the room. The lukewarm water flowed down his throat, slightly clearing his mind.

Thud. That’s when a strange sound came. Yoonjo’s head turned toward the noise.

The source was the wall connected to the small room where Yoon Chaemin was. Thinking he might have misheard, Yoonjo didn’t look away, slowly blinking.

Thud. This time, the sound was much clearer and louder than before. A bad premonition coiled around his ankles.

Yoonjo carefully set down the glass and crawled toward the sound. Pressing his ear against the wall, he focused on the noises from the other side. Another thud, a dull sound, came again. It was the sound of something hitting the wall.

Ugh, faint but unmistakable, it was definitely a groan of pain. The moment he heard it, all sorts of grim thoughts flooded his mind.

There was no time to think further. Jumping up, Yoonjo hurried out of the room. The chilly dawn air enveloped him as if to block his way, but he didn’t stop.

The small room wasn’t far. Reaching it quickly, Yoonjo gently grabbed the doorknob. The handle, cold from the winter air, stole what little warmth remained in his already low body temperature.

Beyond the door, it was silent. The dull thuds and pained groans from moments ago were gone.

His body began to tremble. Was it the cold, or the fear that Yoon Chaemin might be hurt? Even his breath shook in the frigid air.

“Hoo…….”

Taking a deep breath, he gripped the doorknob again. Just as he was about to turn it, the knob moved on its own, and the door swung open with a loud creak.

“Huh?”

His body lurched forward at the same moment. He collided face-first into something standing beyond the door. Letting out a pained sound and clutching his stinging nose, Yoonjo slowly looked up.

“Mr. Yoon……Chaemin?”

His worries seemed pointless. Yoon Chaemin stood there, looking perfectly fine. Except for his cold gaze, he was no different from usual.

“Is something wrong, ugh……!”

His question was cut short. A hand shot out, grabbing Yoonjo’s collar and pulling him inside. His powerless body couldn’t resist.

The small room was filled with an unfamiliar pheromone he’d never smelled before. The pheromone was like a foul stench.

His stomach churned with nausea. He quickly covered his nose and mouth, but there was no stopping the pheromone seeping into his body. His vision blurred.

‘Baby.’

Why, at this moment, did that man come to mind? The eyes of someone lost in the past widened.

“Ugh, ugh…….”

His breath caught. He struggled to break free from Yoon Chaemin, but the grip on his collar was too strong, leaving him immobile. Trying to pry the hand off was futile; Yoon Chaemin was unyielding, as if he had no intention of letting go.

It was terrifying. This situation, Yoon Chaemin’s silence, the repulsive pheromone—it was all horrifying and painful.

“Haa…….”

Yoon Chaemin’s breath grazed his neck. Yoonjo’s face, already pale, turned ashen as he frantically pushed him away. Tears born of fear wet his cheeks.

“Don’t, don’t, ugh…….”

Don’t. Please let go. The words rising to his throat couldn’t escape. What slipped out wasn’t his voice but his tears.

“Yoon, Chae…….”

His consciousness slowly faded. The pheromone an alpha was blatantly emitting was too heavy for an omega to bear.

His vision darkened, distorting. His strength drained away. His eyelids drooped, and the tears pooling in his eyes slipped out.

Nausea surged endlessly. Even in his daze, he felt like he was vomiting something. A buzzing noise rang loudly in his ears.

It was agonizing. The pain was so intense he wished he’d faint instead.

He might have cried and begged, or maybe muttered pleas for salvation repeatedly. The memories that slipped into his unconscious were hazy.

When he barely regained consciousness, the first thing he saw was a familiar yet unfamiliar scene. Seeing the white ceiling and the IV stand by his bedside, Yoonjo sighed and closed his eyes again.

Another hospital. Something happened to me, though I don’t know what. His brow furrowed as he tried to recall. His throat burned as if he’d swallowed fire.

“You’re awake, patient.”

At the unfamiliar voice, he opened his eyes again. A doctor, who had appeared unnoticed, approached with a smile.

“The pheromone shock hit you hard, but we acted quickly, so it’s relatively okay.”

Pheromone shock? Before he could process the term, the doctor continued.

“You should avoid exposure to unbonded traits’ pheromones as much as possible. Especially in your current physical condition—”

“Wait, just a moment.”

His voice, interrupting, was urgent.

“What do you mean by bonding?”

“Well, exactly as it sounds. When someone who’s mutually bonded is exposed to an unbonded trait’s pheromone, it causes a rejection reaction.”

“……Mutual bonding?”

“Yes.”

The more he heard, the deeper his confusion grew.

Mutual bonding? Was the doctor talking about him?

He quickly looked around, but he was the only patient in the room. The chance of a mistake was slim.

“Well, patient.”

Yoonjo, lost in thought, snapped his head up. The doctor gestured toward the door with a gentle smile.

“If you’re okay with it, shall we move to the consultation room? I’ll explain in more detail.”

Yoonjo nodded immediately. Standing with the IV stand, his face was resolute.

Unlike the hospital in Seoul where he’d been admitted before, this one was small. No need for elevators or long walks; a short stroll down the hall led to the consultation room. Passing the doctor who held the door, Yoonjo entered first.

“Are you feeling very unwell?”

The doctor, entering the room, asked to lighten the mood. Yoonjo gave a small smile in lieu of an answer. The doctor didn’t press, filling a paper cup with water and handing it to him.

“The detox might make it worse, but you’ll feel better soon. Have some water.”

“……Thank you.”

Despite his words, Yoonjo didn’t touch the cup, just staring at the rippling surface.

A brief silence followed. The doctor looked at the monitor with a serious face, while Yoonjo, sitting opposite, panted with burning tension.

“Hmm.”

The doctor made a sound, clearing his throat. Yoonjo, scratching his wrist, flinched and looked at the doctor’s expression. The red marks on his wrist throbbed.

“It’s a bit tricky to know where to start.”

“…….”

“Well…… Could you tell me what you know about your condition? That’ll help me figure out how to explain.”

His fidgeting hands froze. Biting his lip, Yoonjo’s head dropped. His voice, a beat late, was as soft as if it were crawling on the floor.

“……I don’t know anything.”

His face flushed. Shame from his ignorance overwhelmed him.

“I don’t know anything.”

“…….”

“I’m just alive because I couldn’t die.”

No one had told him about his condition. He hadn’t asked either. He hadn’t had the mental space.

But now he had to face it. He could no longer avoid the truth. It was time to confront what he’d pretended not to know.

“That’s okay. It happens. I’ll explain.”

The doctor was kind. Though Yoonjo couldn’t see his face, his voice was gentle, reassuring, as if understanding his fear and concern.

The sound of a mouse wheel scrolling was faint. The doctor spun a pen, then set it down with a tap and continued.

“First, you know your health isn’t great, right? You’ve been hospitalized often and for long periods.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He knew he should look at the doctor, but he couldn’t lift his head. Another red mark etched onto his wrist.

“You came to our hospital this time due to pheromone shock. I mentioned earlier, right?”

“Yes.”

“Pheromone shock is a rejection reaction from exposure to an unbonded trait’s pheromone. And it seems you’re currently mutually bonded. There’s a record of it too.”

The doctor observed Yoonjo with slightly sharp eyes. Based on the patient’s reaction, he could guess what had happened.

Yoonjo couldn’t speak. The shock of hearing “mutual bonding” again was overwhelming. So, the doctor was saying he was mutually bonded.

All bonding requires physical and emotional connection. Hearing the word “bonding,” only one person came to mind. The only person Yoonjo had been with was that man.

It didn’t make sense. He knew it didn’t, yet the arrow kept pointing to him. He forcibly swallowed the rising emotions.

“And…….”

The doctor trailed off, hesitating. For some reason, he couldn’t continue easily. Yoonjo slowly looked up to see a serious-faced doctor.

Their eyes met slowly. The doctor, with slightly sad eyes, spoke carefully.

“……The records show you’ve had a miscarriage.”

“……What?”

Miscarriage?

“There seem to be lingering aftereffects. That’s why the rejection reaction was stronger. Pheromone shock is like swallowing poison—”

“Wait, just a moment.”

His trembling voice stuttered. The cascade of shocks made his head spin.

He said miscarriage. The word was too clear to mistake. The doctor had definitely said miscarriage.

It couldn’t be. A miscarriage? That couldn’t be true. It shouldn’t be.

He swallowed the sobs threatening to burst. But he couldn’t calm his heart. The confusion bled into his voice.

“Are you saying…… I was pregnant……?”

The doctor, at a loss for words, pressed his lips shut. His vision blurred. Unconsciously, Yoonjo wrapped his arms around his stomach.

A life had been conceived inside him. And that life never made it into the world.

How could this be hidden? They could’ve kept anything else from him, but not this.

Resentment toward the man and sorrow for the life he hadn’t even known had left choked his breath. His body collapsed limply. Slumping forward, he clutched his head with both hands.

“No, no…… No…….”

Denials poured from his mouth, and cold sweat dripped like rain. His bloodless face was as pale as a corpse.

“No, no. No…….”

His body, losing balance, crumpled. The IV stand was pulled down, crashing to the floor.

Shards of the broken IV bottle rolled across the floor with a sharp sound. Clutching his throat, Yoonjo let out ragged breaths. It felt like someone was strangling him.

The sound of a baby’s cry, never heard before, echoed in his ears. Tears burst forth, and guilt pulled him down. The sticky feeling tightened around him the more he struggled.

He thought he could finally live. He’d dreamed a futile dream of living normally like others.

This wasn’t paradise. Yoonjo hadn’t escaped the man even one step. The place he thought he’d fled to was still hell.

“Mr. Lee Yoonjo!”

Was this why he let me go? No, pretended to let me go. He put an invisible leash around my neck, acting like he gave me freedom, knowing I’d return to him. That’s why.

“Lee Yoonjo!”

A wave of disgust surged like a tsunami. He loathed himself for resolving to live somehow and the man for pretending ignorance. It was horrific and nauseating.

His strengthless body collapsed. His consciousness faded. He didn’t want to open his eyes again.

Since his relationship with the man turned this way, Yoonjo vowed never to love him. He resolved not to expect or hope for anything, no matter that he was his first love. For his late parents’ sake, he had to.

And he believed he’d done well so far. He tried not to be swayed by the man’s occasional kindness, and when he finally escaped his grasp, he felt relieved. He hadn’t known about the bonding. Foolishly, he’d been mistaken.

Freedom. Why was that freedom so hard to reach?

He’d lived without knowing confinement. His parents had built a foundation for him to spread his wings, and all he had to do was soar. Until then, no restrictions or obstacles blocked his path.

But everything changed after meeting the man. Won Kangho took Yoonjo’s freedom, restrained everything, and tried to possess him under the guise of a contract.

All Yoonjo wanted from him was one thing: freedom. Not wealth, a nice house, or a car—just to be let go. The man said he would.

He was naive. He shouldn’t have believed it. Won Kangho hadn’t given him freedom. He’d clipped his wings, put an invisible leash on him, and merely acted like he’d set him free.

“……I’m sorry.”

Yoonjo, staring blankly out the window, turned at the sound. Yoon Chaemin, sitting by the hospital bed, looked down at the floor, as if overwhelmed with guilt.

“I was too careless. I shouldn’t have been there. I should’ve left, no matter what it took…….”

“…….”

“There’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

Yoonjo showed no reaction. He didn’t get angry or ignore him as if unwilling to listen. He just sat quietly, looking at Yoon Chaemin, letting his words pass.

It was all pointless. No amount of medicine would restore his broken body or guarantee recovery. It was merely keeping his frail lifeline intact.

“Mr. Yoon Chaemin.”

After a long silence, Yoonjo spoke for the first time. Startled, Yoon Chaemin snapped his head up. Yoonjo, still expressionless, met his gaze directly. His cracked lips moved.

“Can I ask one favor?”

“Ask as many as you want. What do you need? I’ll do anything I can.”

Yoon Chaemin was desperate. It was as if he’d play dead if asked, to atone for his mistake.

Yoonjo wasn’t angry at him. While Yoon Chaemin wasn’t entirely blameless, the real issue lay elsewhere.

“Please take me to Seoul.”

“……Seoul?”

“Yes.”

“Why Seoul all of a sudden…….”

His question trailed off. Yoon Chaemin’s face hardened instantly.

“No way, right?”

Yoonjo didn’t respond. Yoon Chaemin’s reaction didn’t matter. He’d already made up his mind; all that remained was to act.

The person who held the beginning and end of everything was Won Kangho.

Standing up, Yoon Chaemin paced the room restlessly. Yoonjo watched him quietly, waiting for an answer.

It didn’t matter if he refused. It was just a request, not a demand. If he said no, Yoonjo would find another way.

“This is insane.”

Muttering to himself, Yoon Chaemin stepped close to Yoonjo. His grip on Yoonjo’s shoulders was painfully tight, making Yoonjo’s face wince.

“Are you saying I should take you, Mr. Lee Yoonjo, to that bastard with my own hands?”

His voice was full of anger. Knowing why Yoon Chaemin reacted this way, Yoonjo couldn’t say anything. He suppressed the urge to push away the hands gripping his shoulders.

He hadn’t expected understanding. He didn’t even understand his own actions, so how could Yoon Chaemin?

“You’re calling that a favor? I know everything that bastard did to you, Mr. Lee Yoonjo, and now you’re asking me to—”

“It’s a request, not a demand.”

Yoon Chaemin’s indignant voice cut off. It was the first time Yoonjo had interrupted someone.

He knew everything. That Yoon Chaemin would react like this, that it all made no sense—he knew it all. But he had no choice.

“……I know too. That this isn’t normal.”

More than anyone, Yoonjo knew best. That his current thoughts weren’t rational. He knew, yet he had to act because there was no other way.