Hoya flicks on the lights. Dongwoo is sleeping, smaller, thinner, less colorful. Scalp beginning to show under thinning gray hair, bleaching like a skeleton in the white white hospital bed.

Hoya starts when he hears a low grunt come from the other side of the room. He sees a dark form rising from the couch, the silhouette of a man (standing behind a screen door or..?), which resolves itself into Dongwoo’s father sitting bent over on the couch, rubbing his face from the forehead down and squinting at the sudden light.

“Oh, sorry Mr. Jang, I didn’t-”

Mr. Jang halts the apology with a shake of his head and wave of his hand. He slowly sits up and returns to his usual position: legs set shoulder-width apart, back straight, hands resting comfortably on his thighs. He looks at Hoya with a straight unwavering gaze. Hoya can’t help but to stand up straighter.

“You’re here early, Lee Howon.”

 “Yes, sir. Early riser.”

Mr. Jang looks at his sleeping son.

“I’ve heard that from Dongwoo,” he says. “You two are opposites, nothing can wake Dongwoo before he is ready.”

“He always got up early to practice,” Hoya says.

“Really?” Dongwoo’s father thinks about that for a while. He stands up and walks over to Dongwoo’s bed, placing his hand on the top of his son’s head.

“He wakes up later and later every day now.”

A couple seconds of silence pass, but then Dongwoo begins to stir. He opens his eyes and sees his father.

“Good morning, Dad,” he says, the remnants of sleep slightly slurring his words.

“Good morning, Dongwoo,” he returns, cracking a smile that makes his eyes wrinkle, like Dongwoo’s do. “Who would have guessed that you would start balding before me?”

Dongwoo laughs and his father’s smile softens, somewhere around the edges of the eyes, and Mr. Jang suddenly no longer looks like the formidable fortress of a man that Hoya has always seen, but a father who is scared to lose his son.

Mr. Jang moves his hand from Dongwoo’s head to his lower back. He helps his son to sit up, and Dongwoo slowly moves his legs, dangling them over the side of the bed. Hoya catches a glimpse of Dongwoo’s legs, slim and messily bruised with purple and blotched with yellow, before his toes touch the floor and the hospital gown settles around his ankles. Dongwoo looks up and sees Hoya standing in the doorway.

“Hoya!” he exclaims. “You know, I thought I heard you.,.” He gingerly stands, testing his weight on his feet. “Wanna go for a walk?” he asks, his smile slightly crooked.

Hoya glances at Dongwoo’s father, who has silently moved back to his usual stance in the arm chair, before nodding. He lays his hands lightly on Dongwooo’s arm, and when Dongwoo doesn’t pull away he holds it more firmly, but is still not sure how firm to be, and they slowly leave the room, Dongwoo shuffling beside Hoya’s slow motion stride.

They hallways are dimly lit, only every other light illuminated. The faint morning light comes in from the few windows, casting squares of bluish tint on the white walls. It’s quiet except for the faint murmuring of the nurses who talk over coffee in the break room. Dongwoo lays his hand on a metal rail that runs along the right wall of the hallway and straightens as he places one foot in front of the other.

“I’ve been walking like this with my father everyday,” he explains.

Hoya nods, still holding onto Dongwoo’s arm with that hovering firmness.

“How’s everyone at the dorm doing?”

Hoya shrugs. “They’re managing, some better than others.”

Dongwoo nods, and they continue to inch down the hallway, Dongwoo pulling himself forward with the railing for every step.

“How about you?” he asks.

Hoya thinks, their familiar silence setting in. He thinks for a long time but whatever he’s feeling, he can’t express.

“I’ve… I’ve been trying to write what’s happened over the last couple days,” He says. “It’s all crap, but… it’s all that I can say.” He quickly turns to Dongwoo. “How are you feeling?”

They turn a corner and Dongwoo’s effort shows in the beads of sweat on his forehead.

“The radiation's difficult. The liver damage is a big problem.” He sighs. “Everyday I get more tired and the pain gets worse.” He stops walking and leans against the wall, breathing heavily.

“My family, too. Mom… she tries really hard to hide it, but when I told her I couldn’t eat her… and Dad, even he has his limits. My sisters...” He sighs and straightens, putting his hand back on the railing and beginning to walk down the hallway, back to his room.

“You know, I know you’re busy, and you don’t need to come every day,” Dongwoo says, glancing at Hoya.

            “Don’t be an idiot,” Hoya says.

            Dongwoo laughs, lowering his face. “You’re right, you’re right, sorry. I shouldn’t be saying stuff like that.” He grab’s Hoya’s hand and smiles, looking up into his face.

            “You know that I’m grateful for all the times you’ve come, right? Thank you, thank you.”

            Hoya glances to the side, smiling awkwardly. He feels something he should say in response caught in his throat, but he can’t coax it out.

            Dongwoo releases his hand and smiles as he continues shuffling down the hallway. When they reach his room, Dongwoo checks his watch.

            “You’ve got practice to go to, right?” he asks.

            Hoya shrugs. “Not really, I can stay.”

            Dongwoo shakes his head. “No, my mom and sisters will be here soon, and I have to talk to my Dad about a couple of things anyway. I’ll see you later, okay?”

            Hoya hesitates. He glances into the hospital room and sees Dongwo’s father waiting patiently in his arm chair. He lets his hand drop from Dongwoo’s arm, nodding slowly.

            “Yeah, I’ll see you later.”