If Sungjong had pondered the letter anymore, thought about the thousand Myungsoos speaking in his head, he’d surely have gone mad but the phone suddenly rang, and the emergency ringtone put him on alert, causing his brain to drop all other thoughts immediately.

He picked up the call with trepidation, fearing what he would have to hear.

“Hello?”

He could here noises in the background – his department of the hospital was usually quiet at night. But he could hear pagers beeping, trolleys being dragged, and voices hollering. He said a quick prayer – please no, not her.

“Sir, it’s patient 328.”

He could hear Jinyoung’s ragged breathing as if he had been running. He probably had rushed off to the emergency unit to call him. Sungjong had had qualms about leaving him with the patient, knowing he had worked hard all day but they were short of junior doctors and Jinyoung had insisted on staying. Now he could hear the tiredness mixed with worry in his voice as he spoke rapidly.

“Hematomas appeared, sir, I don’t exactly know when. I went for dinner, leaving Junhong with her, and when I came back and checked…I’m afraid it’s multiple hemorrhages, sir. We had been running platelets at slow speed, just as you said, but something’s wrong, it’s stopped flowing. Sir, what -”

Sungjong’s hands started to get colder. This could very well be Jiyeon’s last night. Once internal bleeding started, there wasn’t much to do, just wait for the cold truth. He sighed.

“Stop the platelet. I’ll be there. Call Daehyun.”

“Yes sir.”

Sungjong ended the call and hurriedly put on some clothes. His mind was reeling in all the information he had gathered over the years about hemorrhage patients. No matter where he looked, he couldn’t find anything useful. He had felt this helplessness before, of not being able to do anything. But this time it was a little different because here, he was the main person responsible, it was his patient and he had to face the attendant and say that there was nothing he could do for them.

It filled him with an unknown fear as he drove through the empty streets. He dreaded facing Myungsoo, he couldn’t do anything for him…If Sungyeol was here, would he have done better?

By the time Sungjong reached her bedside, Daehyun and Jinyoung were busily checking the monitor and trying to increase Jiyeon’s oxygen saturation. It was falling steadily, so was her respiration rate. Sungjong hadn’t noticed when he came in but Myungsoo was standing at one corner, in the shadows, his face in his hands. At first he wanted to scold Jinyoung for allowing Myungsoo into the room but as his eyes fell on the monitor and the patches of angry red on Jiyeon’s legs and arms, he didn’t have the heart to.

It was like watching a sinking ship while there were indestructible mountains separating them.

Daehyun turned around and met his eyes – the expression was clear – she wouldn’t last the night. Sungjong breathed in and moved closer to the bed. Gently, he took out the cannula from her wrist.

“Take off these tubes, just let the oxygen mask stay and the ECG,” he ordered Jinyoung, who nodded. “There’s no point in hurting her anymore,” he whispered to Daehyun, who agreed. “And no ICU.”

“No point,” Daehyun said.

But still according to protocol, he explained to Myungsoo the situation and asked if he wanted to move her to the ICU.

“You wouldn’t be allowed in there,” he added, not meeting his eyes.

Myungsoo refused the offer and as they moved away from the bed with their machines, he sat down on the bedside chair, taking Jiyeon’s hand in his.

“Umm…we’ll be outside. If something happens, call us.”

Sungjong motioned for them to go out and after glancing at the ECG monitor once again, where Jiyeon’s heart was failing, he made to follow them.

“Sungjong…Dr.Lee, will you please stay? I don’t think I can do this alone…”

Sungjong looked at Daehyun, who was standing just outside the door. After a long time, Daehyun shrugged, his heel and left. Sungjong closed the door and walked to Myungsoo’s side.

He didn’t know why he was staying; even though Myungsoo was silent, his voice was reverberating inside Sungjong’s head – a memory from years ago – “When we’re at our worst, when we have done the most horrible things in the world, when we’ve committed heinous crimes, promise me we won’t leave each other’s side then. Promise me, if I sell my soul, you’ll buy it back, Sungjong. Promise me if I have to say goodbye, you’ll be by my side.”

He didn’t protest when Myungsoo’s other hand clawed at his with an intense need. He stood there, watching the lights reflect off Jiyeon’s hollowed face that looked sickly and pale now. On one side, he felt the weariness of the day wash over him, watching what he had worked so hard for slipping through his fingers. On the other side, he felt Myungsoo’s warmth easing his pain; they were comforting each other actually.

And finally when the spikes on the ECG screen fell flat and the beeps started to ring louder, Sungjong moved willingly as Myungsoo held onto him tightly, his head resting on Sungjong’s stomach and drenching his shirt.

Like a robot, he moved forward, carrying out the last few tests on Jiyeon, shining a torch in her eyes, checking her pulse, listening to her soundless chest. For the very last time.

“I have to call it, I’m sorry. Time of death, 4.06 am.”

He wasn’t sure if Myungsoo had heard him but it didn’t matter.

Daehyun and Jinyoung found them in that position, but refrained from commenting. Sungjong was glad for that, and he was glad for their consolations of “It was too late anyway,” but the nagging thought that the first patient he had looked after by himself had died wouldn’t leave his head. He battled with his conscience but the guilt was persistent. He felt he had let everyone down.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me,” he whispered to Daehyun, after breaking away from Myungsoo, who looked like he was just waking up.

He didn’t wait for Daehyun’s response because Myungsoo was staring down at his hand, as if missing the warmth that had been locked with his. He would look around soon for Sungjong and when that happened, he couldn’t face him; he couldn’t tell him that he had failed, even though Myungsoo was well aware of this.

He almost ran to his room, trying to stifle the tears that were leaking out of his eyes. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint why he was crying – of course he was devastated that he had been unable to save his first patient, but when he had taken on the uniform, he had been told he couldn’t save everyone. And yet the melancholy threatened to drown him.

I couldn’t save a life, I couldn’t do exactly what I had been trained to do – I failed…

There was a knock at the door but he didn’t bother to look up. He hadn’t locked it; the next moment he heard the door squeak open. He was still looking fixedly at the polished wood of the table. The sound of footsteps nearing him failed to interest him; they seemed to be a part of another world. He didn’t even flinch when someone touched his shoulder, gently.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He knew that, but for some reason he couldn’t stop blaming himself. “It wasn’t your lack of trying. You did everything, you tried everything, but this is fate. You can’t fight it – you can’t save the one who’s meant for another world.”

Very slowly, the words started to take effect on him. At first they felt like pinpricks, but as the voice kept on insisting, he felt the words getting sharper against his skin – the guilt started to leave him, like drops of ink, and a wide open space replaced the heavy burning in his chest.

“She suffered so much for so long, now finally she can be at peace.”

His breathings became shallower as his airway cleared. He felt lighter, and the truth seeped back in – I’m sorry Jiyeon, but I am powerless against fate.

“You know the last thing she told me Sungjong? She said that on the first day we came to the hospital to see you, she had realized that I love you, and only you. She said she doesn’t have any regrets and she wants me to be happy.”

Sungjong stiffened – he was reminded of how Jiyeon had had a fiancé, how she had dreamed of a future. He owed Myungsoo his fiancée…

But the last thing Myungsoo said put all of his thoughts to a halt – all he could do was stare at him gratefully, watching the light in his eyes.

“Sungjong, I don’t blame you; not one bit.”