ECHOES IN SILENCE | Yoon Jaehyuk FF |✅

page | 08

-The first breath of hope -

Jae sat at the edge of the hospital bed, his head resting on his folded arms, his fingers loosely intertwined with hers. The rhythmic beeping of the machines was the only sound breaking the suffocating silence of the room. He had long grown used to the sound, but today it felt different, heavier somehow, like each beep was a heartbeat of hope, whispering that she was still alive—barely, but alive.

Half asleep, Jae felt a different sensation on his skin. It was faint, almost imperceptible at first, like the brush of a feather against his hand. He ignored it, assuming it was his imagination or the lingering traces of a dream. But then, it happened again—a slight twitch. His eyes snapped open, his heart immediately racing in his chest.

He lifted his head slowly, cautiously, not trusting himself to believe it yet. His gaze fell to her hand—the hand that had been lifeless for years. He froze. There it was again—a faint but unmistakable movement of her finger, twitching, rising and then falling back down.

His breath caught in his throat, his mind a whirlwind of disbelief and shock. It had been so long—too long. He blinked several times, convinced his mind was playing cruel tricks on him, but no—her finger twitched again. He watched, stunned, as her eyelids fluttered, her lips parting slightly as though she was trying to speak.

"Zumi…" he whispered, the word barely escaping his lips.

For the first time in years, hope surged through him, wild and uncontrollable. He could hardly process what was happening, but one thing was clear—she was coming back. Slowly, but surely, she was fighting her way back to life.

Jae shot up from his seat, his heart pounding like it was in a marathon. His breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as he ran to the door, barely able to contain the tidal wave of emotions building inside him. He flung the door open and shouted, his voice hoarse with urgency, "Dr. Park! Dr. Park! Come quickly!"

The corridor outside the room seemed to stretch for miles as he anxiously waited for the doctor to arrive. Every second felt like an eternity. He couldn’t stand still; his body was vibrating with nervous energy, his mind a jumble of thoughts. What if it was a false alarm? What if this was just another cruel trick of fate?

Soon enough, Dr. Park appeared, followed closely by his medical team. They rushed into the room, their faces calm and professional, a stark contrast to Jae’s visible anxiety. "Mr. Yoon, please stay calm," Dr. Park said firmly, though not unkindly, as he advanced a chair toward Jae. "Take a seat. We’re going to examine her."

Jae reluctantly sank into the chair, his body tense with anticipation. His eyes never left Zumi’s still form as the doctors surrounded her, checking her vital signs, monitoring her pulse, her eyelids, her blood pressure—every possible indicator of life.

Sweat began to form on Jae’s brow, trickling down the sides of his face as he whispered to himself, "Everything’s fine. She’s okay. She’s coming back…"

The hushed conversations between the doctors filled the room, their technical jargon flying over Jae’s head. He strained to catch any words that would give him an idea of what was happening, but nothing made sense. He could only watch, helpless, as they continued their examination.

Finally, the doctors stepped back, all except for Dr. Park, who remained by Zumi’s bedside. He leaned over her and spoke gently, "Miss Zumi? Can you hear me? If you can, please lift your finger."

Jae’s heart nearly stopped. He watched, breath held, as Dr. Park’s words seemed to reach her. Her finger twitched once, then twice, and then, with a slow, deliberate motion, she lifted it. Jae’s breath came out in a sharp gasp, his eyes widening in disbelief.