Tonight

The Utterly Clear Gaze

Seokjin entered the hospice wing of the assisted living center, just as he did every Saturday. He waved at the receptionist with a smile that pushed his cheeks up, making them resemble little balls of soft dough.

The receptionist waved back, not removing her eyes from the monitor screens. An alarm was blaring, signifying a patient left the premises when they were not allowed. Seokjin paused for a second, but ultimately continued walking to the volunteer's office. He always marveled at the ease the nurses and receptionists handled their jobs. As someone who once thought about working with patients day in and day out, a guilty part of Seokjin thought he was glad to be a volunteer as the weight of being responsible for so many people for an occupation must feel incredibly tiring. It was something that he didn't think he could do without becoming numb to the needs of humanity as a whole. After reconciling this with himself, he turned his attention towards music. He still wanted to touch lives, but felt he could do this in other ways than having it be his sole motivation in his career.

Seokjin entered the volunteer office and tapped in his login credentials on the work computer to sign in to his shift. He then grabbed his name tag from the filing cabinet to the right of the computer terminals when he heard a voice call out.

"Oh! Seokjin, is that you?"

"Yes, Ms. Lee?"

A woman with short cropped hair and a neatly pressed two piece skirt and suit jacket poked her head out from an interior adjoining office. Her face was lightly lined with wrinkles and there was some silver in her hair, but otherwise her 60 years of age didn't show. Seokjin only hoped he could look as good as her when he aged.

"Can you come into my office, please?"

Seokjin felt a familiar lead ball drop into the pit of his stomach. Once inside, Seokjin sat down before Ms. Lee had the opportunity to ask him. He knew what was coming, but for the sake of privacy, he knew that Ms. Lee had to call him inside her office.

"It's Mr. Chung, isn't it..." Seokjin's chest felt heavy.

"I'm so sorry, dear," Ms. Lee said, extending a sympathetic hand out to Seokjin in case he needed a comforting touch. "Mr. Chung passed early this morning. We just got done notifying his family."

Seokjin pressed his lips together and nodded solemnly. He was a hospice volunteer after all, here to give comfort and companionship to those who did not have much time left on earth. Seokjin had three patients pass before Mr. Chung, but it didn't mean it was easy to hear someone you had gotten to know had passed.

The time he had with people like Mr. Chung was short, but he found the experience enriching. Being there for these patients, largely of whom were elderly, who either had no family alive or needed companionship during the day while their families worked was a small thing to do in his eyes. Unfortunately, hospice always had one constant: Death. The extensive volunteer program he went through taught him about the phases of dying and what happens to the body when someone does die, so he felt prepared when he began his position.

The grimness of death would put many people off, especially at Seokjin's tender age of twenty-six, but death didn't bother Seokjin like it did most people his age. He knew death was a part of life and he was able to separate himself well enough when a patient did pass. Many of his friends thought the act of separating was cold, but Seokjin knew it's what he had to do in order to not let the death affect him in daily life.

Seokjin sighed and blinked a few tears away. Mr. Chung always told Seokjin not to let other people tell him what to do and that it was okay to be different - a progressive thinker despite being ninety-eight years old. Seokjin wondered if the pancreatic cancer hadn't festered inside him if Mr. Chung could have lived to over one hundred.

Ms. Lee patted Seokjin's hand, which he hadn't even realize he had extended for comfort. "As luck would have it though... we have a new admission who needs a hospice volunteer... Would you be open to starting with a new patient today? I know it's very short notice and if you need to wait, I completely understand."

"No, no," Seokjin pulled his hand back and waved it. "Mr. Chung had a good long life. He will be missed, but there is nothing more I can do for him now."

Ms. Lee nodded and pressed her lips together. "You're so practical and you radiate such compassion for your patients. I wish I had more hospice volunteers like you."

Seokjin blushed, his ears turning a bright red at the praise. "You're too kind, Ms. Lee."

"Your abilities make me think you will do well with this patient..." She pulled the file from a large stack on her desk. "This patient is particularly... special... And I felt if anyone can be this person's companion, it would be you."

Ms. Lee handed over the patient file all hospice volunteers are given when they receive a new patient. These files weren't medical files of the patient, but more-so like a dating profile. It details a list of the patients' likes, dislikes, basic information, and a photograph.

Brow furrowed, Seokjin took the file and opened it cautiously. After looking at the patient's picture, Seokjin froze for a few heartbeats. He shot his eyes back up to Ms. Lee who was nodding and chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"Do you think you can be there for him, Seokjin? If you can't please don't feel obligated..." Ms. Lee's voice faded away as Seokjin continued to stare at the picture in the patient file.

The utterly clear gaze that peered up at him from the photo was that of a young man. He was smiling in the photograph, the outer edges of his eyes crinkled ever so softly. He looked kind... healthy... Seokjin tore his eyes away from the photo to look at the details.

Name: Jungkook Jeon
Age: 22
Diagnosis: Stage 4 Brain Cancer
Likes: Video games, sports, music, food, photography
Dislikes: Tasteless food, bugs, studying

Seokjin couldn't remove his gaze from the age. Jungkook was just a kid, younger than himself by four years.

Ms. Lee was still chewing on her inner cheek anxiously waiting Seokjin's answer, when he finally tore his eyes away from the patient file.

"I'll do it."