a girl, that knows nothing of feelings. not only that, but her body is also suffering greatly.
not knowing that she was being ruled by emotions on a rollercoaster of passion, while the desire for more, more of the many beautiful feelings she feels f...
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꧁ ❦ ꧂
Sunoo’s life had taken a turn he never expected. After losing Nabi, he found himself gravitating toward a path he hadn’t considered before. He had enrolled in nursing school not long after her passing, driven by a need to honor her memory and ensure no one else had to feel as helpless as he had during her final days. Now, a year later, he worked as a nurse in the same hospital where she had spent her last days.
It wasn’t easy—being surrounded by reminders of her, walking the same halls where he had once waited for news, and seeing patients fighting battles similar to the one she had lost. But it gave him purpose, a way to keep her spirit alive in his heart.
One day, as he was finishing his rounds, he was called to meet a new patient in the pediatric ward. A little girl, no older than eight, was being admitted for ongoing treatment. She had a quiet, shy demeanor and big, bright eyes that immediately reminded him of someone he had loved and lost.
"Hi there," he said softly as he entered the room, his voice kind and gentle. The girl was sitting on the bed, her legs swinging nervously. She glanced up at him, her small hands clutching a stuffed rabbit tightly.
"Hello," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her mother stood beside her, looking just as worried as the little girl.
"What’s your name?" he asked, kneeling slightly to be at her eye level.
"Na… Naeun," she replied hesitantly, her cheeks tinged with a shy blush. "But my mom calls me Nani."
The name hit him like a bolt of lightning, and for a moment, he froze. Nani. So close to Nabi. Too close.
Her mother stepped in, sensing his momentary pause. "She has a lung condition," she explained softly. "The doctors said it’s fibrosis. We’re hoping for a transplant… someday."
Sunoo’s chest tightened, and he forced himself to take a steady breath. The resemblance, the name, even the condition—it was almost too much. But he quickly composed himself, offering a warm smile as he looked back at Naeun. "Well, Nani," he said, his voice gentle, "you’re in the right place. We’re going to take great care of you."
As the days passed, Sunoo found himself spending more and more time with Naeun. She was sweet, curious, and full of life, despite the challenges she faced. Every time she smiled or laughed, it felt like a tiny piece of his shattered heart was being put back together.
He couldn’t help but wonder if this was fate—or something more. Sometimes, when Naeun would laugh in that carefree way that children do, he swore he felt Nabi’s presence. It was as if she was watching over him, guiding him to this moment, to this child.
