So Gi-hyeon’s greatest strength—and at the same time his most fatal flaw—was his inability to dwell on things for very long.
That trait alone had dragged him out of the suffocating despair of his twenty-fifth summer.
Even while staring at an ankle shattered badly enough to ruin his future, his first thought had simply been: How am I supposed to make a living now?
He had approached rehabilitation the same way.
Just focus on moving the big toe.
Just be grateful it isn’t permanent.
Maybe it was because he repeated those thoughts to himself over and over that he survived it. Aside from the occasional nightmare and the lingering limp, Gi-hyeon refused to revisit the events of that day.
That was how he stayed afloat.
If he got hurt, he was still So Gi-hyeon.
If his luck was garbage, he was still So Gi-hyeon.
So the only person capable of carrying those scars and healing around them was himself.
The problem was that this habit of simplifying everything occasionally became a serious weakness.
Like now.
Going to the hospital is such a hassle… I don’t even know which department I’m supposed to visit.
His attempt to downplay the problem had gradually turned into outright avoidance. Worse, he genuinely had no idea whether he was supposed to go to Internal Medicine or Surgery.
When he searched his symptoms online, the only results he found were bizarre articles filled with Omega terminology he barely understood. Some pages even demanded age verification before he could continue reading, which only made the entire thing feel more absurd.
Since his annual health screening last winter had come back perfectly normal, he eventually decided he would only go to the hospital if the fluid appeared again.
Until then, work came first.
“How does someone who literally just had surgery think drinking alcohol is a good idea? Your knee is burning up right now.”
“It wasn’t yesterday. It was a week ago…”
“That’s basically the same thing, Mr. Park Sang-ho.”
Keeping his expression stern, Gi-hyeon secured the ice pack firmly over the patient’s knee before propping the leg up on a pillow to reduce the swelling. Then he informed him he would be skipping rehab exercises entirely for the day.
Park Sang-ho was infamous in the general ward for throwing tantrums whenever treatment got delayed. Rumor had it he had been transferred here after physically fighting with a therapist at his previous hospital.
Unfortunately, by the time anyone warned them, he had already been assigned to treatment.
And Team Leader Lim absolutely loved dumping patients like that onto Gi-hyeon.
—Why are you looking at me like that, Dr. So? Should I hand him over to Dr. Seung-hee instead? If that’s what you want, just say so.
It was blatant manipulation.
Gi-hyeon had simply shaken his head and accepted the assignment.
Patients like this usually restrained themselves around physically imposing male therapists. It was better for him to deal with it than for Seung-hee to suffer through it.
Besides, she had helped him countless times since he joined the clinic. He wanted to repay her whenever he could.
“Please stay still. Until the swelling goes down, you absolutely cannot overexert yourself.”
The patient only clicked his tongue in annoyance.
Suppressing a sigh, Gi-hyeon turned toward his next patient when someone familiar entered the sports clinic.
“So Gi-hyeon.”
“…Oh. Long time no see.”
It was Moon Si-hoo.
One of Jo Yeon-oh’s acquaintances.
Back when Yeon-oh had been serious enough about fencing to receive attention from the national team, Moon Si-hoo had been one of the few people he consistently stayed in contact with.
As an épée fencer himself, Si-hoo went way back with him.
Gi-hyeon had met him a few times while tagging along with Yeon-oh, but the man always looked at him with an unpleasantly calculating gaze. He was exactly the kind of person Gi-hyeon disliked.
“Team Leader Lim told me to stop by today.”
“Ah. He’s away from his desk right now.”
As he answered, Gi-hyeon rubbed absently at the center of his chest, where the military dog tags beneath his scrubs rested against his skin.
There was another reason he disliked Moon Si-hoo.
He was Team Leader Lim’s favorite.
Despite being aggressively mediocre as an athlete, Si-hoo received an absurd amount of preferential treatment, enough that the other athletes openly resented him.
Team Leader Lim focused almost entirely on Si-hoo’s rehabilitation while neglecting everyone else under his care.
Which meant the abandoned workload inevitably fell onto Gi-hyeon.
He had been forced to handle both his own patients and the overflow from Lim’s roster, often giving up lunch entirely just to keep up. The worst period had been midsummer, when the clinic’s air conditioning broke down completely.
Remembering that hellish stretch nearly made him sigh aloud.
“He went to observe athlete checkups, so he should be back soon. You can wait here.”
“All alone?”
Gi-hyeon had expected him to sit quietly while he returned to work, but Si-hoo suddenly caught hold of his arm with a sly smile.
“I’ve got a huge backlog of patients waiting.”
“We haven’t seen each other in forever. You’re hurting my feelings. Besides, that bastard Jo Yeon-oh hasn’t been answering my calls lately either. …You two still getting along?”
Right.
This was exactly the problem.
That probing, insinuating tone.
Forcing his stiff expression to soften, Gi-hyeon summoned his professional bedside manner.
“Yeah, we’re doing fucking fantastic. Guess he just doesn’t like you anymore. You know how picky he is about people.”
He failed immediately.
Instead of avoiding the provocation, he slammed directly into it.
Moon Si-hoo’s eyes narrowed sharply. Wetting his lower lip with his tongue, he gave a hollow laugh.
“Of course we’re not on good terms. I don’t associate with filthy Beta bastards. And I definitely don’t bend over for them.”
“…What did you just say?”
Disgust crawled violently up the back of Gi-hyeon’s neck.
He took a step forward instinctively, ready to demand exactly what the fuck Si-hoo had just said, but before things could escalate—
“Oh my god, my darling! If you were here already, why didn’t you call me?”
Team Leader Lim swept into the office, clapping brightly.
“Dr. So, be a dear and make us some coffee.”
“It’s okay, Team Leader. We’re old friends. Making him run errands feels a little…”
Moon Si-hoo giggled as he said it, insincerity dripping from every word.
Only then did Team Leader Lim glance toward Gi-hyeon.
“Really? Are you offended, Dr. So? Then maybe I should ask Dr. Seung-hee or Byung-joo instead.”
The threat was so transparent it bordered on comical.
Shoving both hands into the pockets of his scrubs, Gi-hyeon silently raised his middle fingers where neither of them could see before turning away.
“I’ll make the coffee.”
“Oh? Really?”
Team Leader Lim beamed.
Moon Si-hoo snickered beside him.
With the air of a man heading to his execution, Gi-hyeon left the ward.
But Moon Si-hoo’s words clung stubbornly to him.
Bend over for them…
…Did Jo Yeon-oh actually tell him that?
Yeon-oh had always acted desperate to keep their relationship hidden. Gi-hyeon himself had been the one to formally suggest the arrangement in the first place.
The idea that Yeon-oh might casually discuss their private life with trash like Moon Si-hoo left a bitter taste in his mouth.
How much longer was he supposed to pay for destroying their perfect friendship?
He still didn’t know.
In the end, he never made the coffee.
Instead, he buried himself in patient treatments.
When Team Leader Lim eventually stormed out demanding to know where the drinks were, Gi-hyeon calmly apologized and explained that he had simply forgotten because work had been too busy.
As Lim’s face turned red with rage and he started shouting, Gi-hyeon merely bowed politely and let the yelling wash over him.
Then he turned away and calmly removed the ice pack from Park Sang-ho’s knee.
“Dr. So Gi-hyeon! Are you seriously ignoring me right now?!”
“Ah. I realized I left the ice pack on Mr. Park Sang-ho for too long. We wouldn’t want frostbite.”
The excuse was completely insincere.
Staring absently at Team Leader Lim’s philtrum while the man continued screaming, Gi-hyeon found himself idly noticing that he had an unusually large Adam’s apple.
By the time the shouting finally ended, his shift was over.
On his way home, his phone vibrated.
Jo Yeon-oh was calling.
Gi-hyeon stared silently at the name on the screen for a long moment before slipping the phone back into his pocket and continuing down the street without answering.