"Jinyoung," the voice is emphatic, and it makes Jinyoung's throat stuffed as a lump grows there, blocking the oxygen path to his lungs, and Jinyoung wants to claw it out, makes scars along his pharynx as his finger nails drag down to pop the lump because he wants to breathe.

Somehow he feels as if he was the one who was lying on the operating table. He wishes he was the one who was lying on the operating table because Jinyoung doesn't deserve this— this whole 'life' thing.

That patient was still young, barely reached 10 and she had to sacrifice everything in order to survive. And she could, if only Jinyoung was quicker to make a decision, was faster to grab the knife, was more efficient to remove all of the spreading parasite. If only Jinyoung was a better and more reliable doctor, that doesn't only make promises to save the kid, but can actually hold onto it too.

If he could do anything to bring the kid back to life and see those big eyes, fulfilled with spirit (to live, to believe that she can survive), staring back at him again, he would.

"I failed, sunbaenim," Jinyoung finally replies. His hands are curled into fists; he's stripped off of his surgeon uniform but there's blood on his long sleeve and he glares at the stain, feeling reminded about his own failure.

"You didn't."

"Yes I did."

"No."

A hand is wrapped around Jinyoung's and he turns his head just slightly to glance at his colleague smiling up at him. "You didn't."

It takes him a few seconds before he finally sobs, letting himself be engulfed in warm arms and melts. He doesn't understand how Baekhyun seems to be so calm about this—his longer experience might be the cause. Jinyoung remembers how the older used to lock himself in one of the toilet stalls after a few unsuccessful operations, despite him only being assistant surgeon to Seokjin. And although now his smaller, pretty hands are also slightly trembling (Baekhyun was the closest to that patient), his palms are soothing as they trace along the small of Jinyoung's back, rubbing circles and giving reassurances.

"You tried your best," Baekhyun's calming voice tells him. "Even us doctors can't fix everything. And that's okay."

It's not, at least for Jinyoung. Because that kid has been Jinyoung's reason to strive. Because that kid has been the one who put smiles on Jinyoung's face for ing undying faith in him. Because that kid believed in Jinyoung, and that made Jinyoung believe in himself. Because that kid has been Jinyoung’s new light.

Jinyoung doesn’t dare to look at Baekhyun’s eyes when he pulls away to wipe his tears, but the older grabs his face and Jinyoung can feel the small metal on Baekhyun’s left hand pierces the skin of his cheek; the pricking cold sensation somehow feels more painful to Jinyoung so he gazes into Baekhyun’s eyes, seeking solace from those glossy dark charcoal orbs.

“We’re in this together, Jinyoung.”

“But—“

“I’m holding myself back because I know Seulgi wouldn’t want her father to mourn over her,” Baekhyun says sternly as he clenches his jaw and blinks back the tears pooling in his eyes. 

“Both of her fathers.”

Jinyoung can feel his heart weaken at his own reflection in Baekhyun’s eyes. Sometimes he forgets how Seulgi resembles the older so much because right now, the way Baekhyun looks into his eyes, as if trying to read his mind, reminds him of the times when his daughter did the same whenever he tried to hide bad news regarding her health.

“Sunbaenim—“

“Doctor Park’s job is done the second you took off your scrubs. Seulgi needs Jinyoung back.”

The hands on Jinyoung’s cheeks are trembling again and Baekhyun finally lets one tear escape. “I need you back.”

That’s all it takes for Jinyoung to pull Baekhyun into his arms, this time reminding himself that Baekhyun is the source of that same light he found in his deceased daughter.