The first thing Park Chanyeol thought of SM Institute was—everything was green.

It was really the colour that seemed to only exist. His uniform was mint-green, the walls of the hallways were a sickly green, and the door to everything was green green green. The smell of the atmosphere seemed to smell like green too; the smell of medicine. And the smell was that strong, and it made him cough and gag.

And first of all, let me inform you that this isn’t an ordinary hospital, and medicine is very rarely given here. But it still stank of hygiene and cleanliness, and it wasn’t the cheerful, blossoming-flower kind of smell. It made Chanyeol dizzy, and it was only the first day of his transfer.

The only thing that wasn’t a green colour (even the people here looked a sickly shade of green) was his new co-worker Luhan, who bore a bright pink dye in his hair. Sadly, the pink was reduced down to a shade of an off greenish-pink, which was a disgusting shade of brown. And Luhan openly stated that he was absolutely sick of the colour green that he didn’t want to look at trees anymore. Chanyeol couldn’t help but agree.

He previously worked elsewhere, as a nurse assistant. It was still a mental institute, though he didn’t play the main role. But at least everything wasn’t all-green in there. At least the walls were colourful and the doors were painted a different colour.

After Luhan showed him around the building, initially his first day (he would only start working with a dedicated patient the second day, and the first day would be dedicated to familiarising himself with things—because he would now be a main nurse with a dedicated patient) was spent walking around (trying to find something that was not green). He would lounge around in the Staff Room, or walk around the hallways peering at patients, or assist Luhan in a therapy session with one of the patients.

Thankfully, the canteen didn’t serve green food, save for his beans and broccoli.

Chanyeol studied nursing for years, and it had always been something he wanted to do. However, working in an ordinary hospital proved a tough feat for him—he couldn’t handle the sight of blood. At the verge of losing his job, someone popped up and said; “It’s such a shame, really, Chanyeol. You’re really good with your patients, too. Tell you what, my friend works at another hospital. One there won’t be any blood, promise. Why don’t you pop in for a quick visit?” And so Chanyeol began his career as… well, a mental health nurse.

At lunch, Luhan handed him his pass-card (for doors and his locker) and his schedule. His schedule just told him when he should wake up the patient, where he should take him, and what his activities were.

Behind the schedule was an information of the patient, which Luhan had spat out his half-chewed hamburger when he saw the name.

Byun Baekhyun
May 6th, 1992
Admitted May 6th, 2005
Severe levels of Psychosis, mutism.

Chanyeol, scooping a spoonful of peas and sweetcorn in his mouth, stared at Luhan with a raised eyebrow. “Why the shock?”

Luhan just mopped his brow and shook his head. “Longest resident. None of us can stand him. Even I tried, and I could only stand him at three minutes at the longest.”

Chanyeol his lips. “What’s the longest record?”

“Five minutes and thirty seconds.” Luhan said wistfully. “And he suffered a brain and spine damage after that, because little Byun kicked his back straight-up down the window.”

Chanyeol couldn’t eat the rest of his lunch.

Chanyeol wasn’t introverted. It was just that he liked listening more than talking.

Chanyeol also liked asking questions. He liked the different points of view of everyone, even if they were different to his own. As long as it was a civilised debate, he always had two ears free to listen. It wasn’t the ‘stalker’ kind of curiosity. He just liked different philosophies.

Philosophies of those who cannot think for themselves are the most interesting.

Chanyeol also liked smiling. This is also a downside, because his face also seems to smile whenever he was upset or someone was getting angry at him. Though as a nurse, he was often sensitive to others and had purposefully smiled—because it was his habit.

Chanyeol, however, didn’t like being nervous. He was allergic to that feeling. Not as in starting to violently sneeze whenever he was nervous, but his stomach often did backflips and he felt the need to throw up, and he often would sweat bullets. He would rake a hand through his hair every so often to regain his composure.

Why was Chanyeol nervous?