*Warning: brief mention of self-harm

The light was bright.

The room had been dark for some time, having shut off a while after Sang-hyuk had left. Its eyes immediately retracted at the sudden introduction, its eyelids blinking reflexively as it turned its head away. The darkness had not bothered it, gave it no other feeling than being in a different setting, yet it welcomed the light, finally able to see. Its eyes could not see in the dark, trapping it to the bed it laid on since it could not move without its sight.

Even so, it took some time before it decided to venture farther than its bed, swinging its legs over the side and watching them dangle below. It might as well have stayed lying still, comprehending nothing beyond what its eyes could see and what it could fathom from that. With nothing but focus that its mind could use, it placed one foot to the floor, watching as the skin squished at the touch, turning white briefly before fading back to the original skin tone. Curious, it did the same with its other foot, watching it do the same.

Its body appeared to have some knowledge of itself beyond what its mind could remember, its knees automatically locking when it tried to stand up, its feet bracing to hold its weight. It was not something it had known to do, and had never done beforehand; it sat back down on the bed as it raised its leg up, watching as the knee joint bent and straightened along to its whims. It was interesting, and it decided to try and see what else its body could do.

It was just about to see if its elbow could bend in the opposite direction when the door opened; it snapped its head up to see Sang-hyuk at the door, eyes wide as he stared at it. He did not move for some time, so it looked down to see what about itself could upset him, finding nothing wrong beside its hand moving up to cup the backside of its elbow. Sang-hyuk coughed awkwardly as he shut the door behind him, taking a couple steps forward to place his folder on the table. It watched him the whole time.

“You…shouldn’t do that,” Sang-hyuk said finally, gesturing to its elbow that was just beginning to bend backwards, coming over and pulling its hands apart when it did not move. It watched Sang-hyuk carefully as he grabbed the chair by the desk, rolling it over to the bedside before sitting down.

“Why not?”

Sang-hyuk paused, his face blank before speaking slowly, “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Hurt?” It watched Sang-hyuk open his mouth to say something only to snap it closed, his eyes lowering slowly. It did not know why he reacted as such, but it noted how similar his expression was to the last time, when tears came and he cried as he laughed. It was not sure if crying was a positive or negative reaction, but it could tell by the way Sang-hyuk hesitated in answering he was not reacting positively. “Did I say something wrong?”

Sang-hyuk blinked, shaking his head quickly and sitting straighter, a smile on his face. “No, sorry, I was just thinking about something.” He shifted in his chair as his smile widened, leaning forward and placing his hand on its own. It stared down at their hands, trying to understand why the man would want to touch in such a way when there was nothing to gain, when Sang-hyuk’s voice spoke again. “Hurting is when you feel pain. Pain…that’s not something you can understand, unfortunately.”

“Why not?” It understood what the words meant—the concept was a little strange for it to perceive, but it knew it could understand if given time.

“Well…your nerves don’t work anymore, so you wouldn’t be able to even if you tried. Here, do you feel this?” Sang-hyuk moved his hand down its wrist and over its palm, clapping and pinching when it made no move to register the touch. His hand continued up the length of its arm, his breath slowing as his fingers stopped by its elbow, his thumb in a repetitive fashion. It waited patiently for Sang-hyuk to continue, only watching with slight curiosity, until Sang-hyuk said quietly,

“You can’t feel anymore. Y21…you have to be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“How can I not get hurt if I cannot feel? I would not know if I am in pain.”

Sang-hyuk nodded his head before pulling one hand away and sticking it into his coat pocket, his eyebrows furrowed as if searching for something until he drew out a small pocket knife. With a flick of his thumb the blade shot out of the plastic casing, Sang-hyuk holding it up so it could see it clearly. “Watch me, now.”

Without waiting for any confirmation on its part, Sang-hyuk stuck the knife into his arm, the skin splitting apart in rugged chunks as the blade dragged along. However, it was not the cut nor the blood that caught its attention, but the way Sang-hyuk’s face contorted, his eyes squeezing shut as his lips pulled back into a grimace. His whole body arched, his arm moving closer to his chest as the knife fell to the floor, his hands shaking terribly. He flexed his fingers as he took deep breaths, Sang-hyuk’s eyes wide and dilated as he pursed his lips together, letting out a long breath that stopped when he finally placed his uninjured arm on the bed.

“…did you see that?” he asked, his voice hoarse. It looked up to see Sang-hyuk staring at it, sweat beading around his forehead as his eyes were filled with something it could not name. It did not know what was happening, or what Sang-hyuk had done, but it knew that whatever it was, it was not a positive reaction. “That…that was pain. That was hurting.”

It blinked, this new information washing over it as it stared at Sang-hyuk’s face; it listened to the small gasps he tried to cover with tight lips, watched how his hands shook as his fingers rested near the wound, hovering close but never touching. It looked down to the bloody knife on the floor, to the drops of blood on Sang-hyuk’s coat.

It reached out and took Sang-hyuk’s arm, tugging him closer so it could stare at the wound. This wound—it caused pain. It poked at the edges of the mangled skin, its eyes flitting up when Sang-hyuk let out a strangled cry.

“That hurts,” Sang-hyuk said, his furrowed brow and overall stiff posture outweighing the small smile he tried to give.

“This is what you want me to avoid? Hurting myself like you have done?”

“No,” Sang-hyuk said, yanking his arm away and standing up, crossing the room to the forgotten cabinet, taking out a white box and placing it on the desk. He didn’t speak right away, instead focusing on his wound, hissing as he cleaned away the blood and wrapped a bandage over it that hid away any evidence of what had happened. It wanted to reach over and poke at it again, wanted to see Sang-hyuk’s face change and hear him struggle with words in that hoarse voice. It was not the pain but the reaction that triggered its curiosity, and it wanted to see it again.

It snapped its head up when Sang-hyuk slammed the box closed, the sleeve of his coat rolling down his arm and covering the bandage. It followed the motion closely.

“No, Y21, what I wanted you to see was pain. You saw how I reacted, how my body reacted; that was pain. Even if you can’t feel it, you can recognize the signs.”

“I can only know by blood, if going by your description. I cannot feel what you did to cause such a reaction.”

“I know that. But if you can recognize what is at least happening, it is already a step in the right direction. Pain comes from triggering the nervous system, something sharp puncturing the skin or something blunt knocking hard against the body. Because your nerves were severed, even if something like that did happen to you, you wouldn’t know it. Just like how you were trying to bend your arm backwards earlier.”

It looked down to its arm, staring as nothing happened despite waiting to see it move. Its own body; it knew it was its own, could tell it was attached to itself by the joints that moved when it told it to. But it had nothing like what Sang-hyuk did to make it truly feel its own. It lifted its arm so that it could stare at its palm—even though it had told its arm to do that, and even though the arm had followed the order, it was as if watching another body entirely. It did not feel like its own.

It was strange, being told to understand a concept that it had no ability to even begin trying.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” It looked up to see Sang-hyuk holding its hand, his face relaxed as he smiled. There was not a trace of the pain in his expression, the smile so positive it could only focus on the way his lips stretched across his face. “Don’t worry. We’re...I’m working on a way for you to feel again. I won’t let you stay like this, I promise.”

“Was I able to feel like you before?”

“Yes,” Sang-hyuk said quietly, nodding as tears hung at the edge of his eyes again. It noticed Sang-hyuk cried easily. “Yes, you did. You felt more than any person I ever met. And I will give that back to you, I promise.”

It did not know the proper response to such a declaration, not sure why Sang-hyuk was trying to promise something he had no way of knowing he could keep. It seemed strange to put so much faith into something so trivial, so it only nodded to appease him. Instead, it let its eyes trail down to the blood on Sang-hyuk’s coat, focusing on the hint of red peeking out from under his sleeve.

“Your blood…does that come when you are in pain?”

It took Sang-hyuk a second to understand, instinctively tugging down his sleeve. “Not all the time. Only when you pierce skin.” He reached down and picked up the forgotten knife as if for emphasis, wiping the blood away on his coat.

“Would I bleed?”

Sang-hyuk paused again, his smile being replaced with a frown. “Yes, but I don’t want you to ever try on your own, understand?”

“Yes.”

The next time Sang-hyuk came, it was waiting for him, sitting exactly where he had left it. Sang-hyuk had told it that it could move around the room if it wanted when he was gone, though it did no such thing. It did not understand the need to move when there was no reason to, did not understand why Sang-hyuk would expect it to do so without him there. There was nothing to gain from the endeavor, not including the fact that it still had not learned how to walk properly, unable to move its limbs without looking directly at them first.

Sang-hyuk frowned when he saw it on the bed, the smile that had been on his lips falling to a frown. It did nothing but watch as Sang-hyuk placed his folder on the desk, sitting in the chair and rolling over to the bedside. “I told you, you can walk around if you want,” Sang-hyuk said, the tone in his voice sounding different than before as he reached over and took its hands, checking the joints and making sure everything was fine. It merely blinked, not knowing what kind of response Sang-hyuk wanted, and Sang-hyuk sighed.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped. Here, let me ask you differently.” Sang-hyuk’s hands moved down to its waist, pressing around and making a quick motion to have it rotate slightly so he could feel the joints move. “Do you want to walk around?”

“No.”

Sang-hyuk stopped, looking up with wide eyes that he quickly hid away. “Oh. Well then, why don’t you want to?”

“There is no reason to.”

Sang-hyuk pulled his hands back, resting them on his knees as he took a deep breath, his eyes staring right into its own. A smile spread over his lips that pulled his eyebrows down, an expression it noticed happened when he was about to cry. Letting out another breath, he leaned forward so he was looking up into its eyes, the tips of his bangs falling across his forehead. “There doesn’t always have to be a reason. Don’t you want to see what your room is like? I know it’s small, but there’s lots of things to see.”

“I can see everything from here.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t move.” Sang-hyuk waited a minute before realizing it was not going to say anything, nodding his head as he moved down to its legs. It watched him, watched as his expression fell still and his eyes refused to look anywhere but its legs, his fingers carefully bending its knees. It did not know why moving around seemed to be of such importance to Sang-hyuk, to the point he appeared to almost cry. It turned its eyes away from Sang-hyuk’s face to look at the room, looking at the few things that it had already stared at for hours. The cabinet, the bed, the desk; what else did it need to look at? What other reason did it need to move?

It continued to stare blankly until Sang-hyuk finished, waving his hand in front of it to bring its attention back. “Hey, what are you thinking about?” There was a small laugh in his voice, his expression positive again. It wondered if the seamless changes in his expression and voice happened because he chose it, and whether it would one day be able to do the same.

“I am trying to understand why you want me to move.”

Sang-hyuk did not take as long to answer this time, shaking his head. The smile was gone. “It’s not that I want you to, I just don’t want you to sit here forever without moving. You should get up, walk around a bit. Here, I’ll show you.”

Sang-hyuk grunted as he stood up, smiling down as he held his hand out, his palm facing up to the ceiling. It did not move, trying to understand what it was he wanted, and Sang-hyuk hissed softly. “Ah, sorry. Here, I’m inviting you to take my hand.” Still uncertain, it carefully placed its hand in his. Without another word, Sang-hyuk tugged it to its feet, catching it when it nearly fell over. It immediately tried to grab something, its body reacting on its own again, slapping at Sang-hyuk and tearing at his sleeves until Sang-hyuk eventually held it steady.

Slowly, Sang-hyuk helped it enough that it could stand on its own, though its hands refused to leave Sang-hyuk’s arms. While its feet were now prepared to hold its weight and its knees were properly locked, it was still not ready.

“Sorry, did that surprise you? I’ll let you know next time I do something like that.” His hand reached up to push the tips of its hair from its eyes, that crying smile on his face. “Look at you. You’re standing up all by yourself.”

“I cannot,” it said immediately, staring into Sang-hyuk’s eyes to show how it did not like this. All that did was make Sang-hyuk laugh.

“Yes you can, look at yourself.” It did as told, looking down to see its legs standing sturdy. “I’m going to let go now, so be ready.” It tried to grab onto him as Sang-hyuk pulled away, though its fingers only slipped uselessly through Sang-hyuk’s. Its body again reacted on its own, wobbling back and forth to try and stay steady, though with no way to tell where to hold its weight, it ended up collapsing to the floor.

Sang-hyuk was immediately by its side, bending over so his face was in its point of view, helping it sit up. His voice was high as he repeatedly asked if it was okay. “I’m so sorry, are you okay? A-ah, Y21, here let me help you. , I should’ve been more careful. Here, I’m going to sit you down, be careful.”

Sang-hyuk’s hands were all over it as he sat it back down on the bed, continuing to apologize as he did so. He checked over its body, doing the same tests as before but now much slower, taking great care as he checked its legs. It waited until Sang-hyuk finally sat down, his hands running up into his hair and pulling, his teeth biting down into his lip enough to draw blood. Once it saw the blood, it realized that this was what Sang-hyuk had taught it, the blood bringing pain and pain causing hurt.

It reached over and yanked his lip straight out from under his teeth, ignoring the way Sang-hyuk flinched back as it wiped the blood away and then smeared it over the sheets on the bed. It could hear Sang-hyuk crying, turning its head to see tears running down his cheeks as he tried his best to wipe them away with the back of his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said through his tears, taking a deep breath as he blinked his eyes. “I’m sorry, Y21.”

“Why are you sorry?”

Sang-hyuk let out a sound that sounded like a mixture between a laugh and a cry. “I hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

It shook its head, showing its arms and legs for emphasis. “No, I am not hurt. I did not bleed.”

It took Sang-hyuk a second to understand, fresh tears filling his eyes. “No…no, you didn’t.” His hands were shaking as they took its own, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of its hand. “But remember, I told you there doesn’t always have to be blood to feel pain. You fell; that would hurt.”

It watched Sang-hyuk cry a little longer before it pulled its hands away, mimicking the way Sang-hyuk always held its own, down to the rubbing small circles into the back of his hand. Sang-hyuk stopped mid-sob, eyes wide in disbelief. It was not sure itself what exactly it was doing, but it had realized Sang-hyuk had done this before to stop his crying, so it wanted to do the same. It worked; Sang-hyuk stopped.

“Y21…”

“You are fine, Sang-hyuk. I am not in pain. Do not cry.” The words flowed through its lips as easily as its body moved to breathe, not even sure what they meant as it said them. Whatever they were, they had the intended effect, Sang-hyuk whispering a soft ‘thank you’ as he leaned his head onto its shoulder and cried.

--

Sang-hyuk left not much later, not saying anything as he took his folder and walked right out the door. It watched him leave, repeated the sound of his apologies on its own lips to try and figure out what it had done to cause him to cry. It had tried to tell him that it was not ready to walk. It wondered if he had not understood its warning and believed that it should have been able to move on its own. As it looked down to its feet hanging over the edge of the bed, the toes flicking whenever it ordered them to, it wondered if it should have been able to.

It straightened its right leg out, focused on the way the muscles tensed and shifted as it flexed its foot. Sang-hyuk had cried because it could not walk on its own and fell. While it was not entirely sure what kind of reaction crying was, it knew that it was not positive. Would being able to walk make him smile?

While his mind could not rationalize why it would prioritize Sang-hyuk’s smile over the more logical decision to stay sitting, it still believed it should try.

As it shifted to try and put its foot on the floor, the door creaked open, its head snapping up to greet Sang-hyuk, when an entirely different person stepped inside. It stayed completely still as it scanned this new person, not recognizing the man. A long, thin face, a high nose, thin eyebrows shaped over eyes that refused to look in its direction; the man kept his eyes down as he rolled a small cart inside the room.

It immediately compared the man to the only thing it knew. Already, it could see how this man’s back was bent slightly, his shoulders pulled forward and his head bent down. Sang-hyuk always stood tall, his shoulders rolled back and his head held high. This man’s hands shook as he organized through the various bowls and utensils on the cart, his breathing audible as it came out in quick gasps. Sang-hyuk, for the most part, was calm as he spoke, his shaking hands and irregular breathing coming only when he cried. When the man finally turned to face it, his eyes catching its own briefly, he immediately looked down. Sang-hyuk always looked it in the eye.

“I-I’m going to be feeding you, now,” he said, swallowing loudly as he pulled out a long tube, without another word stuffing it into its mouth. It blinked at the sudden motion, not used to having things done without being told. It noticed how the man explicitly avoided touching it, his hands taking extra care to adjust the tube without brushing its lips, moving the cart closer instead of asking it to shift. It could only conclude that Sang-hyuk must have told the man about how it could not feel, thus causing him to avoid its touch.

The man flipped a switch and a liquid began to run down the tube, unable to see where it went once it entered its mouth. It did not move, sitting compliantly to wait until the man was done, when the man’s expression opened considerably as his eyes widened, hurriedly flicking the switch off and yanking the tube from its mouth. Unintelligible words flew out of his mouth as he grabbed napkins and wiped at its face, at times brushing its eyes or knocking its head back and forth.

It looked down to see what was bothering the man so badly to see the liquid covering its whole front, running down its chest and eventually dripping onto the floor. While the man busied himself trying to clean its face, it ran a single finger over its stomach, tilting its head at how the liquid clung to its finger. It wondered what the temperature of the liquid was, whether it had anything to do with how the man hissed every time he touched it.

The door swung open again and Sang-hyuk was in the room, the man whirling around with an expression that looked as if he was about to cry.

“What did you do?” Sang-hyuk asked loudly, crossing the room in a few strides and shoving the man away, grabbing the napkins and swiftly cleaning away the rest of the liquid. The man squirmed from where he stood, his hands knotted in front of him as he kept his head bowed, shaking.

“I-I don’t know. I-I tried to feed it l-like they told me to. But it didn’t go down, it just filled its mouth and started running down its face and-”

“Stop, that’s enough,” Sang-hyuk said, cutting the man off. He knelt down as he tugged its chin down to meet his eyes, his lips a thin line. “Y21, can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

Sang-hyuk smiled. “That’s good.” His hand moved up to run through its hair, stopping at the back of its head. “Do you know what…” He turned to the man. “What’s your name?”

“K-Kim Seok-jin.”

Sang-hyuk turned back to it, “Do you know what Seok-jin was trying to do to you?”

“Feed me.”

“Yes. Do you know what that means?”

“To gain the nutrients from the food.”

“Yes,” Sang-hyuk’s smile was softer, both hands now on its cheeks. “Yes, that’s right. But do you know how to eat?” It blinked, and Sang-hyuk nodded understandingly. “Seok-jin,” the man, Seok-jin, stiffened, “Y21’s nerve receptors are still unresponsive, so he can’t feel or understand touch without explicit instruction. You need to work with him and give him a step-by-step on what you’re going to do and how you’re going to do it.”

“O-oh…”

Sang-hyuk kept one hand on its chin as he reached for the tube, taking great care to tell it everything he was doing when he placed it back in its mouth. He stood up, his hand never leaving its face. “Here, I’ll show you how to do it. If you do this right, he’ll remember and you shouldn’t have to explain again.” Seok-jin nodded diligently as he stepped forward, and Sang-hyuk turned his attention back to it. “Okay, Y21, what we’re going to do is feed you. What I want you to do is just swallow, just keep swallowing until I tell you to stop. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” it replied, its voice slightly distorted from the way its lips tried to speak around the tube. Sang-hyuk’s smile widened as he ran his hand through its hair again, something it noticed he did a lot. It waited until Sang-hyuk flipped the switch, the liquid beginning to run again and, as told, it began to swallow. It did not know if what it was doing was correct, watching Sang-hyuk’s face closely for any indication to stop. Sang-hyuk did no such thing, just keeping his hand in its hair and his finger hovering over the switch, staring at the tube intensely.

A considerable time passed before Sang-hyuk switched the tube off, waiting a couple seconds before removing it. It closed its mouth as the two of them placed the tube back on the cart, working with something it could not see. It made no move to try and see, waited patiently even when Sang-hyuk’s eyes eventually flitted back to it, a small laugh escaping his lips.

“Look at you,” he said, his laughter embedded into his words and trickling through the air. He grabbed another napkin and wiped at its mouth, smiling. “You’re so messy. Next time try and keep the food in your mouth.”

It tilted its head at the comment, watching as Sang-hyuk threw the dirty napkin onto the cart. “I am sorry. I will try next time.”

Sang-hyuk paused, his smile faltering briefly before standing up. Seok-jin’s fidgeting stopped. “Doctor, sir,” he said, causing Sang-hyuk to stiffen. It wondered how Sang-hyuk’s body was able to function, with how much he stiffened and loosened his muscles anytime anyone ever said anything.

“Please, don’t call me doctor. I don’t really deserve that title.” Sang-hyuk stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Just call me Sang-hyuk. Though…you said your name was Seok-jin, right?”

“Y-yes!”

“Did they put you in charge of caring for Y21?” Seok-jin nodded and Sang-hyuk let out a low breath, sending it a quick glance. Neither spoke, staring at each other with Seok-jin looking about to cry, and Sang-hyuk smiled. “You don’t have to worry, I won’t tell anyone about this.”

Seok-jin’s head snapped up. “Really?”

“Of course. You’re an intern, aren’t you? They never give you guys any training, so it’s to be expected you’ll make mistakes. Don’t worry about it.” Seok-jin was smiling now, his shoulders relaxed, though his face scrunched slightly when Sang-hyuk suddenly put a hand on his shoulder. His gaze was unwavering, nothing like the way he would stare at it. “But I do want you to be careful. Y21 is very special, both to this project and to me. Don’t you dare hurt him, understand?”

Seok-jin stuttered out a response before grabbing the cart and pushing it straight out of the room, not giving either Sang-hyuk or it another glance as he did so. Sang-hyuk did not seem bothered, turning to meet its questioning eyes and sighing.

“I didn’t mean to scare him, but I’m serious. You’re very special, and I don’t want you to get hurt.” He looked to be thinking deeply, his expression closed, before he stepped forward, leaning down to pull it into a hug. It jerked initially, not sure what to do with its limbs or how it was supposed to respond, though that only made Sang-hyuk shift accordingly. “If anyone does anything to you, you tell me right away, okay? I will take care of you. Okay, Y21?”

He pulled away to stare into its eyes, and it realized he was waiting for a verbal response. “I understand.”

“Good. Don’t trust anyone here. Don’t let anyone do anything without asking me first. Okay?”

“I understand.”

Sang-hyuk’s smile and promise to be back soon were all it had before he was out the door, leaving it alone in a room that was little more than its entire world, a world where Sang-hyuk was all it had. It had no reason to expect anything more, even with the discovery that there were others besides Sang-hyuk and itself. With the few interactions it had, and the very limited things it had been allowed to learn, there was no reason to believe there really was a world outside that door.

Sang-hyuk was all it had.

I’m going to be moving soon, and with a new job (hopefully this one sticks, I need money ahh), so I can’t guarantee updates will be frequent for a while. I promise I won’t disappear like last time (don’t hold me to that), but I’ll try and keep up with updates.

Also, any feedback for how this story is going is extremely welcome! I’m a little (read: extremely) worried about how the timeline is going with all the jumping around (which, I promise there’s a reason for). If it’s confusing at all, please let me know, and I can try to make the transitions a little smoother, and/or fix up the confusions! And I’ll answer any and all questions the best I can!

Thank you for reading, you lovely people!