North - South

Sleep/Wake

Day one

Bip. Bip. Bip.

Acute and still not anxiogenic, the sound of the machine that was measuring her vital parameters – heart rate? Brain? He had no clue – seemed to mark the time too, reckoning the distance between his world and Se-ri's.

A bip, and then another, and then another. Again, again, again. Still asleep, still asleep, still asleep.

The wound was not fatal, they had said. But there was something, haematoma... evacuation... their words had fluctuated in front of him without Jeong Hyeok being able to catch them ...vital parameters... non-life-threatening... head trauma... induced coma... minor injuries...

Not Se-ri. All of that could not be Se-ri.

Se-ri, please, live.

When they had known he too had been involved in the car accident, they had dragged him into a room for a check-up. Or medications, he didn't know. His brain shut, he had submitted himself to the treatments with all the patience he could, well knowing that every protest would have only prolonged the agony.

"Are you her guardian?"

"Yes," was it correct? He didn't know. But yes, of course, he was there, they should have reported to him, please report me something, everything will do.

"Herr..." unconvinced, the doctor had made a second attempt, this time clearer, "you are... a relative?"

"Yes."

"Listen, the painkiller we gave you is extremely strong, you should go to your room and rest. Can't you call someone..."

"No."

The face of that relative who was everything but a relative had twisted into the most helpless grimace he'd ever seen. This time the physician hadn't had the heart to repeat the advice. "I'll ask for an armchair to be put in her room. But please, try to sleep."

"Thank you."

She was porcelain pale. And quiet, as if she really was just sleeping. Except he'd rarely seen Se-ri sleeping like that. She used to turn and toss and talk and clench her little fists and move the blanket baring her feet to the icy night air, and he had to check her every night to make sure she was warm enough.

This beautiful – had he ever realized how stunning she was before that moment? Had he ever told her? Her skin, the shape of her face, her hair, the pale pink lips, everything in her spoke an effortless beauty that was devastating him from the inside – sleepy little thing was nowhere far from the frenzied pain in the ass who had busied his nights in Pyongyang.

Delicately, trying to not move the IV needle, he slipped his hand under hers. Live, Se-ri. Please, live. Please Se-ri, leave, I can't tell hyun you're not in this world anymore. The former pianist crouched at her side. Tears flew down her hand without him realizing it. He couldn't imagine a world without Se-ri and without hyun. Not again, not a loved one snatched from life again. Please, no. Please.

"Please, Yoon Se-ri, live. Do it for hyun."

The first azaleas were blooming, and it was as if Spring was filling the air, as if it had suddenly become pink and brightening. It was the day of the finals's result and all around her proud parents were presenting their daughters with flowers. Smiling faces, hugs. But she didn't care. She was free! Eventually free! Swiss was around the corner. Maybe that was why the air looked so pink, because it was the happiest day of her life.