Part 1

Kiseop is depressed. At least, that's what his psychiatrist thinks, but he doesn't put it that exact same way. Instead, Kim Jaeseop, announces that he "may" have unipolar disorder. And although Kiseop doesn't know what that means, he doesn't fight it because even when it comes to something like this, he sees no real point.

But Kiseop also thinks that maybe- just maybe- there's another reason he barely looks up from the carvings of the old wooden desk when Jaeseop speaks. Maybe- just maybe- he knows Jaeseop is right.

Although Kiseop hates to admit it, he can't deny the darkness. What happens in the nighttime, much more acute than his hollow daytime shell is something that just can't be ignored. It's the only time he truly feels.

He hears voices inflitrating his heart. He feels soft touches ghosting his chapped lips. He sees the past in slow motion but is myopic to the future.

Still, it is the only time his heart beats. So as Kiseop sinks into the pitch black, bathing in an inexistant moonlight, he admits that he is depressed. He lies his head against what feels like a cement pillow and thinks to himself that whatever this is- this unipolar disorder, manic depression, MDD- maybe he can blame it on that. Just so he can sleep better at night.

But he can't, so he doesn't. And this night, just like any other, becomes another sleepless one.

"Your eyes..." Jaeseop points out as Kiseop finally sets himself in place, sitting comfortably across from the doctor in what he supposes is the "patient's seat". Kiseop shoots him an expectant look. His eyes gloss over, deep catacombs hidden behind irises, almost daring Jaeseop to say something, so he does.

"Did you even sleep last night?"

"The stars were too bright." And it ends there.

He catches sight of a snow globe and begins playing with it, twirling the object between his fingers as the flakes fall down. He wishes it were that easy. He wishes he could simply control the way the snow fell, but even that is a hopeless dream. Kiseop isn't God.

Across the table, Jaeseop sighs and thumbs through his file.

"So," He folds his arms across the wood, "In our last session, we discussed the possibility of unipolar disorder due to the death of a lover, Kim Kyoungjae, was it?" No answer, "Now, under normal circumstances, I would prescribe a therapy or rehabilitation of some sort, but it appears that your symptoms are much too acute to be treated so simply."

Jaeseop looks up, but Kiseop's expression remains blank- untouched by any exterior forces- so instead, he smiles. "Kiseop-ssi, we're going to try something very different, okay? You have my word. I will do everything in my power to cure you."

The psychiatrist catches a flicker of something in Kiseop's eyes. It's just a lapse and it only remains for a few seconds, but it's something, and he'll take anything at this point.

Smiling, Jaeseop catches hold of Kiseop's arms and lifts him up.