Jong-in stared at his father incredulously, watching the dead man slowly open his eyes. He dropped the mes in his fingers and slightly backed away as his father blinked faintly and gagged for breath. He grabbed an oxygen mask and rushed over to his father, placing it over his nose and mouth. He felt the rush of emotions overpower him, and couldn't help the tears that flowed from his eyes. His research and studies over the past few years had finally paid off, and he had finally saved a person. 

"F..ather, can you see me?" Jong-in waved a hand over his eyes. 

His father's breathing became more stable, and his movements a little more flexible. Jong-in heaved a sigh of relief as he helped his father sit upright. For a few minutes, he stared into the thin air, emotionless and void of life. Jong-in did not lose any hope as he squeezed his father's hand lightly, hoping that everything would go just right. Right at this moment, there was nothing he wished more than for his father to rise from the dead. 

His father coughed hoarsely and turned his head to Jong-in, staring at his brown eyes. 

"Father, can you hear me?"

"Yes, i can hear you.." the nostalgic voice flowed out of his mouth. Unable to control himself, Jong-in burst into tears and buried his face in his father's lap. He had wanted to hear his father's voice so much, and hearing his voice brought tingles to his emotions. Father's body was still very cold, but he could feel his body temperature rising rapidly back to its normal temperature. 

He sniffled and raised his head, taking a good look at his father's pale face. His father was only 50, he was too young to die. Jong-in held his father's hand and scooted near him to give him a big hug, but his father backed away slightly. He was hurt, but he understood. His memories could be all over the place, and it was totally understandable for him to act that way. 

 "Dad," he sniffled. "it's me, your son Jong-in."

The man stared at Jong-in for a long time with a purplexed expression.

"Who are you?"

Jong-in's face fell, and the teardrops only grew thicker.

-4 years later-

     Jong-in sat at his desk, staring at the numerous certificates and awards he received from all over the world. Recognition for his work was what he t wished for, but now- his achievements meant nothing to him. Even after four years, his father failed to recognize him. His mother was the only person that his father recognized, and the truth was daunting. 

He had been researching and studying for memory retrieval, but none of his experiments proved to be successful. He hated going home each day and seeing his father treat him like a total stranger, refusing to believe the fact that Jong-in was his son. He thought that bringing his father back to life would make a change, but there was no difference in his life. Tending to the usual patients who beg for the life of their loved ones, there really was nothing interesting about this life.

Perhaps saving his father was not really a good idea, he often thought.

It was a cruel thought, but what could be worser than your own father refusing to recognize you?

The memory revival was completely upto the one who resurrected, if they desperately needed that person in their life - the memory would eventually come back to them. Jong-in had lost hope of his father's memory ever coming back. 

He glanced at the clock and took off his doctor coat. 

It was the same every single day. 7:00PM, get off work, go back home. 

He always had to escape through the back door, because patients were always lining up to beg for their dead ones when they couldn't even afford it to begin with. Jong-in knew that life always came before money, but he was absoulete certain that those people wouldn't want to spend their money saving someone who probably wouldn't remember them anyway. 

He placed the gray coat over his shoulders and pushed his top hat down to his eyes. Although everybody looked upto him and respected him, he preferred not to be seem amongst the crowd. There were occassionally people who would travel from the other side of the hemisphere, and Jong-in had no choice but to accept their pleading. 

He got into his car and started the engine, driving into the intersection. 

  As he drove along the quiet roads of Duxenville, he noticed a queer sight by the traffic light. His eyes were fixed onto the girl- presumably a student, in tears as she wandered the streets of Duxenville. She was wearing the school uniform in which Jong-in wore when he went to high school. He looked away and drove off, shaking any thoughts off his head. It wasn't the first time he saw someone like that, and there was no reason for benevolence like he used to.

  "I'm home mother," Jong-in hung his coat on the rack and placed his suitcase on the bench, taking a seat at the dining table. Jong-in didn't even bother to meet eyes with his father anymore, because there was nothing he expected or looked forward to. His mother put a warm plate of scallop soup infront of him and took a seat at the dining table, tending to her husband who still had trouble with some of his movements. 

"When does the renovations finish, darling?" his mother asked Jong-in gingerly. Jong-in had recently renovated his house, which meant that he had to stay at his parents' house the past few months. Jong-in took a small slurp and glanced at his father who glanced right back at him. 

"It should be done in a few weeks," Jong-in muttered.

His mother nodded and took a taste of her own soup. 

"How was work today?"

"So-so," Jong-in answered indifferently. He didn't really know why his mother always asked the same question every night, when she received the same response. it was almost as if  she was expecting something to happen. His heart grew a little soft at his mother's disappointed face and bit his lips. His heart was unpredictable; he hurt people but didn't want them to feel hurt. 

"I saw something today though," he swirled his spoon inside his soup. "I saw a student from Seoul near the city hall."

"Did you?"

"Yeah.. She was.. crying."

"Like you always say Jong-in, it's not the first time. right?"

"Y..eah."

His mother looked at him with a soft expression. She knew exactly what he was thinking inside, and she didn't want him to keep it all bottled inside him. She knew that he really had no place to express his emotions, especially at Duxenville. 

"Do you want to go back to Seoul?" his mother asked solemnly.

"O..f course not," he stuttered. "I have a job here, i can't go back."

"Don't you miss living a normal life?" 

"I am living a normal life mother," he said quietly. "I'm one of the most reknowned doctors here.."

"Well your face says otherwise." 

Jong-in heaved a sigh and continued to swirl his spoon inside his soup. He didn't really have an appetite; he didn't really have the desire to do anything. He was the most reknowned doctor in all of Duxenvile, and he was also engaged to the daughter of a government senate - Kim Ah-young. She was known for her beauty in Duxenville, and anybody with a relation to her was considered blessed.

He had all these things, but for some reason he was not.. happy.

"Ah-young called earlier," his mother noted. "wedding dress fitting is next week." 

Jong-in nodded lifelessly and began slurping on the soup. 

"Thanks for the meal," he placed the plate in the sink and grabbed his coat. "I have to stop by my office. left an important file there." he murmured and rushed out the door, securing himself inside the car. He drove out into the freeway and slowly began driving toward his office, when a sight caught his eyes. He saw the same girl he had seen earlie - wet in tears - waiting infront of his office. 

In her hand was a large bag which he didn't have to guess to know- the body. 

Jong-in heaved a deep sigh and parked up, averting eyes with the girl. The girl wiped the tears off her swollen face and watched as Jong-in pressed his hat over his face and walked right past the girl, not giving her a second to talk. 

"Excuse me!" The girl screamed as she dragged the bag up the stairs and caught the door with her foot, dragging her and the bag along with her. Her speed seemed to increase the more he rushed through the corridor.Jong-in was flustered as she chased after him down the long corridor and into his office, where she laid the bag carefully on the sofa. She wiped the dust off her skirt and caught her breath, glaring at Jong-in with her icy face. 

Jong-in took a seat at his desk and avoided eye contact with the girl.

"If a person calls you," she panted. "don't you have the decency to look back at least?" she wiped the sweat off her forehead and peeked at his face. She slammed her hands on the desk, leaving Jong-in no choice but to look at her. 

She was a tall girl, and there was really nothing about her that stood out. It wasn't that she was ugly; she was pretty. But he guessed having Ah-young as his fiancee' did change his views on women's beauty. His heart yearned of nostalgia as he glanced at the typical school uniform that the Seoul residents wore, something that he once used to wear. On her little name tag read Jung Dan-bi. 

"Can i.. help you?" he asked awkwardly. 

She rushed to the sofa and ped the bag, pulling out a lean corpse. She sniffled and fixed the hair gently and rushed back to Jong-in, rubbing her hands together. 

"Please save my brother, he's the only person i have left and i really can't lose him-"

"Look," Jong-in rubbed his face. "I'm sorry but i can't help you."

"Why not?!"

Jong-in grabbed the file from his desk and stood up. He could see Dan-bi filling up with tears, but he had seen so much tears in the past to know that he shouldn't be shaken by water from the eyes. He walked toward the book shelf and slipped out an worn-out album and tossed it to Dan-bi who barely caught it. Jong-in sat opposite her and watched as she opened the album, cringing at pictures of corpses horribly distorted. 

 Dan-bi and Jong-in exchanged looks.

"What is this?"

"What do you think?" 

Dan-bi slammed the book on the floor and glared at Jong-in, tear glistening in her eyes. She was already frustrated as it was, and she didn't want to take any more. She looked back at her dead brother on the sofa and stared at Jong-in silently. She was so angry at this so called doctor who refused to treat a patient. How could he just sit there calmly like nothing had ever happened?

"This album," Jong-in picked it up with a subtle grunt. "Is the record of all the past patients who requested what you are requesting." 

Dan-bi stared at the album disbeliefingly. 

"There's less than a percent of this operation succeeding, and i can't guarantee anything."

"My brother could be that percent that succeeds!" 

Jong-in sighed. 

"This operation costs a fortune, it costs more than what anyone would make in a lifetime-" 

"Is that why you don't give a chance to the poor? Are you sure you're a doctor? You only saved your father. You know that your family is precious, yet you don't know the value of other people's family?" Dan-bi let a bead of tear stroll down her cheek. She slapped it away and breathed heavily. She ped her backpack and shook out a stack of money - more than enough needed for the operation.

"There," her voice shrilled. "what else do you need?!"

Jong-in packed the money and placed it back in Dan-bi's backpack and placed it on the table.

"Please leave, office hours are over." 

Jong-in opened the door, making way for Dan-bi to leave. She stood beside her brother with a tight fist. 

"You," Dan-bi muttered. "Do you know who my brother is?"

Jong-in looked at her strangely.

"Jung Jin-young."

Jong-in's eyes widened at the name. He looked at the corpse, then back at Dan-bi. 

Jong-in's heart skipped a beat, but he managed to keep a straight face. 

"Good to know."

Was his cold response as the two exchanged glances.