When Hoya arrives the next day, Dongwoo’s family is already there. His mom brought naji bokum again. She’s about to warm it up when Dongwoo stops her with a hand on her arm.

“Mom, I can’t eat that anymore.”

“What?” she exclaims.

“I’m not supposed to eat anything spicy while I’m on radiation,” he continues, squeezing her arm. “Sorry.”

“This hospital,” she mutters, slowly putting the Styrofoam back in its plastic bag. She sits next to Dongwoo’s head, softly his face as he tells her his memories of the restaurant: the constant smell of delicious food you could almost taste, the chaotic noise in the kitchen covered by the conversations of the customers in the front, the small pieces of octopus she would sneak him once in a blue moon. She nods along absently as she runs her thumb along Dongwoo’s already-thinning eyebrows.

About a half hour later, there’s a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Dongwoo’s mom calls.

Woohyun rushes to the bed, comfortably inserting himself in the space left open by Dongwoo’s family and bowing to everyone as he rubs Dongwoo’s arm. Myungsoo stands slightly behind Woohyun, smiling quietly at Woohyun’s generic but unashamed jokes which immediately fill Sunggyu’s awkward silences. Sungjong talks to Dongwoo’s mother, nodding his head in understanding and delicately covering his mouth with the back of his left hand when he laughs at her stories of young Dongwoo. She too laughs at his stories of the older Dongwoo, occasionally narrowing her eyes in mock disapproval and saying, “I didn’t hear anything about that.”

The hospital room becomes almost festive, perhaps partly because of the entrance of the members. The one who really sells the change is Dongwoo’s mother, who stood up as they walked in and, although she is much shorter than Sungjong now, and definitely shorter than the Sungyeol which stands by him and adds his laughter, she stands up straight so that she seems to be as tall. She’s a good sport, who masterfully guides the conversation away from future grief and instead to past happiness.