You feel your heart drop as soon as those words register. Without any reluctance, you run out of your house. "Which hospital?" You shout. "Which one?"

"The one right down the street, about a block away from the movie theater. You know the one?" He pauses, and for a moment, all you can hear is the wind as it rushes by your ears, deafening you with its loud sound. "You're not running there, are you?"

You don't reply. You don't care that you could probably wait for a cab to take you to the hospital. You don't have the time or the patience to wait. If you wait, you might burden yourself with the worries that are already beginning to prick your skin. You'd rather run, because although you're mentally running away from something, you also have something you're running to. And that makes all the difference. 

"Wait for me downstairs," you tell Himchan and hang up. You don't bother saying goodbye. Saying goodbye would just represent finality, and you don't want to remember finality right now. You don't want to be reminded of endings. Or feelings. Or anything that would cause you to become lachrymose. 

You almost trip multiple times in your haste. Your steps falter as often as your heart rate, but you persevere, because right now the only goal you have in mind is to reach Yongguk before anything happens. So what if you get a few scrapes on your knee? So what if you lose your breath? None of that matters compared to how much you want to see Yongguk right now.

When you arrive at the hospital, you stagger through the entrance doors. You immediately hate the place. Everything smells sterile and neat and dead, and you hate it, hate it all, hate everything that has anything to do with this building. Himchan stands in front of the counter, a dark look in his eyes. When he sees you, he nods, and without a word he turns away and beckons for you to follow him.

"What happened?" You whisper brokenly.

"I took him to the ER," he informs you, his face grim. "He was having a seizure. The doctors say it was some indirect consequence from the medicine ... it turns out his body is rejecting it. All of it. Anything they'd given him in the past, anything they're giving him now." He looks at you, a culpable look on his face. "There's not much we can do."

"It's not your fault," you say. Himchan looks like he's blaming himself, and you can't bear to see that. "We just got to ... got to ... " you trail off, realizing that you don't know how to finish that sentence.

"Keep hoping?" Himchan smiles slightly. "Yeah. I can do that. But I don't know if I'll get anywhere." He shakes his head, trying to clear his mind, and walks down the corridor. The sound of footsteps has never resounded so loudly before as they do now. It casts an inauspicious augury that saddens you, so you lift your feet higher, careful not to add to the heavy weight in Himchan's steps. 

"Is he still in the ER?" You ask him. Himchan shakes his head.

"They moved him. He's sleeping right now. I mean ... I hope he's sleeping." Himchan stares at the ground. "I'm sorry. That wasn't funny."

You don't say anything and just accompany him around the hospital. He stops in front of a room with the silver numbers 023 dotting the door. He reaches out to twist the knob open, but right then a nurse comes down the hallway and stops him. 

"Are you visiting him?" She asks you both. Himchan retracts his hand and nods. "I'm sorry, he's sleeping right now."

"I know," you say. "We want to see him anyway."

She stares at you before she gives you a tiny, defeated smile. "Alright. Go on ahead. Try not to disturb him, he - " she stops herself and sighs. "Don't stay long. He'll be having a check up soon." With that she turns and leaves, and you take the initiative of opening the door.

To your convenience, there are two stools beside the bed. Himchan takes one and pulls it closer to where Yongguk lies, and you do the same. In a solemn mood, you both watch Yongguk as he calmly rests on the bed. The purple has languished from his hair, and you can see his rich, black roots. He looks tired; there are bags underneath his eyes, and his skin is pale. Nonetheless, he looks beautiful, more beautiful than you've ever seen him. Even if he looks like vitality is slowly being ripped from his body, he still looks well. It's a small assurance, but its one to which you helplessly cling. 

His left hand lies palm open on the covers. You take it in your grasp, trying to remember the feeling of the texture of his skin on yours. You hold it tight and watch him sleeping so peacefully, so serenely, as if nothing bad could ever happen. Himchan glances at you and tries to sm