The cold spring breeze was like a gush of welcoming wind on his face. He was walking down the passageway towards Incheon International Airport. He was definitely home.

Chanyeol closed his eyes and inhaled heavily. Today, his life was going to start over. The last time he was on Korean soil, everything was right in the world. Now, his sight hadn’t quite been regained and he was as helpless as a little child. Without Kyungsoo, he didn’t know if it was going to be bearable.

He heard his mother bidding goodbye to Taeyeon-ssi and then to Jae-wook hyung. He only nodded at both of them tiredly, hopefully they wouldn’t take it as disrespect. It was turning 4 a.m. after all.

His mother was with him all the way, particularly sensitive to his needs as they made their way through the airport and checking out. His family’s chauffer, Changmin, was anxiously waiting for them at the arrival area.

“Chanyeol-ssi,” Changmin greeted, immediately fetching the luggage on his hand. “Gwaenchanhaeyo?”

Chanyeol gave a tired smile, appreciating their family friend’s concern. “Gwaenchanhaeyo, ahjussi. I’m just going to take it easy for a while.”

Then his mother took over telling the driver everything that happened while he rested his head back in the car as Changmin drove towards home.

As soon as they arrived, the two housemaids immediately assisted Chanyeol into his room. One of them was Bok Hee, who had taken care of Chanyeol since he was baby, practically from time the Seomse group of companies started expanding.

“Omo, aegi! How are you feeling?” Bok Hee asked frantically, reaching to brush Chanyeol’s hair from his forehead to get a good look at him. “C-Can you see me?”

Chanyeol laughed. “N-Not quite, ahjumonie. I do know you’re in front of me, though. But I will get better. Soon. Thanks for caring.” He grinned warmly, suddenly grateful to be surrounded by familiar people though he couldn’t see their faces clearly. Even the smell of the house was recognizable, and it relieved him to finally be in the safe confines of his home.

He was made to sit on his bed. Yes, his good old bed, which he plopped his heavy body carelessly to. He dropped his backpack on the side of his bed, lazily kicked his socks off and snuggled his face on the warm pillows. He couldn’t see them properly, but he knew they were his own.

“Chanyeollie?” he heard his mother call him. “Would you like to have some breakfast first?”

He shook his head, about to close his eyes.

“D-Do you want company when you sleep?”

Chanyeol sat up again, turning to the direction of his mom. Perhaps he should at least change clothes? “Gwaenchanha, Omma. Don’t worry. I can sleep by myself.”

“Araseo,” her mother said reluctantly, ruffling his head. “Sweet dreams, adul.”

Mrs. Park kissed his forehead as he told his mom, “You too, Omma.”

Chanyeol was indeed beginning to feel the tension of the last two weeks. He was taking off his shirt when Bok Hee knocked on the door. He knew it was his nanny when he felt her pull his shirt over his head.

Never mind that he was 27 years old. The nanny still had the habit of preparing his clothes nearly everyday, even his suits when he had to work in the office.

Bok Hee offered to get him a glass of warm milk to help him fall asleep as he put on the new shirt he was given to sleep in. Chanyeol smiled his gratitude and hugged the nanny.

A short while later, his milk was delivered, and Bok Hee gently tucked him in.

As soon as he heard the door close, Chanyeol thoughtfully drank his milk. He settled more comfortably in his bed, his eyes starting to drift close. The milk always worked in making him feel sleepy, even at his age. He finished it off and felt around for the table beside his bed to set the glass aside.

Once more, he reached for the mp3 player from his backpack. He sighed, listening to Kyungsoo’s voice singing to him the moment his head hit the pillows. Slumber came peacefully as the image of Kyungsoo, or what he had seen of him at least, came to his dreams.

***

He had his first consultation with Dr. Kim Minseok the following Monday. Chanyeol’s condition puzzled the renowned ophthalmologist as well. However, Dr. Kim wasn’t the type to give up easily.

“We will study your case very closely, Park Chanyeol-ssi,” Dr. Kim told him in assurance, as he checked up on Chanyeol alone in his clinic. “According to Honor Ground’s records, your brain scans only indicate a slight swelling in the optic region, which could explain why you haven’t fully recovered your eyesight, and discernment of colors. Your vitals, however, are fine and you are in excellent health. I understand that you actively exercised before the accident. I suggest taking a break for another month, because your lower ribs are still quite sensitive.”

“The gym probably be won’t be too much use to me, anyway, Doctor,” Chanyeol said, even amused.

Dr. Kim smiled. “You may do floor exercises in a month’s time. Until then, walking would be a good way to stay active.” He flipped through the pages of his patient’s medical records. “If I may ask… how are you coping with… the loss of sight?”

Chanyeol stayed quiet for a while. His mother was right outside. Perhaps he could be honest and open with the doctor. “Apart from the detriment of being incapacitated o