THE SPECTRE

•11

The night had set in, and the hospital remained the family's solemn abode. Taeyong lay sleeping, yet to awaken.

His parents sat on the bench outside the ICU room, their faces etched with worry and exhaustion. They arranged for a relative to come and stay with Yuta, ensuring he was looked after while they remained at the hospital, keeping vigil by Taeyong's side. In the hushed halls of the hospital, the weight of the situation pressed heavily upon the family, each moment laden with anxiety and a fervent hope for Taeyong's recovery.

It's a late hour, and Ten stands beside Taeyong, silently waiting for him to awaken. Around 12:30 AM, Taeyong stirs, slowly opening his eyes. Ten greets him with a warm smile, though feeling a sense of helplessness, being unable to offer any tangible aid.

"Hey," Taeyong whispers.

"How are you?" Ten inquires.

"I'm a little bit unwell," Taeyong replies weakly.

"They know," Ten remarks.

"Yes," Taeyong responds briefly.

"By the way, where are they?" Taeyong asks.

"They're outside," Ten says softly, his presence offering only solace in this critical moment.

"Is there any button here that I can press so that they will know that I'm awake?" Taeyong asks, scanning the room for any means of alerting the medical staff.

"There, try that one," Ten points out, indicating the button on the wall above Taeyong's head.

Stretching out his hand, Taeyong reaches for it, pressing it for a couple of seconds. "Now let's wait," he says, anticipating a response.

After a few minutes, the door of the room opens, and a doctor, accompanied by two nurses, enters. They proceed to conduct a physical check-up on Taeyong, making notations on their papers. Once the assessment is completed, the two nurses exit the room.

"I'll leave you for a while, okay?" the doctor says before stepping out, leaving Taeyong to contemplate his situation alone for the moment.

"Can you please call my parents and let them come here?" Taeyong requests.

"Yes, the nurses will assist them here when they are in their proper attire," the doctor confirms.

"Thank you," Taeyong replies, acknowledging the doctor's efforts with gratitude as the doctor leaves the room.

After a few moments, the door opens again, and Taeyong's parents rush into the room, their eyes moist with tears.

"How are you, son?" his father asks, his voice filled with concern.

"I'm feeling a little better now, Dad," Taeyong replies, trying to reassure them.

"Why didn't you tell us?" his mother's voice trembles as tears stream down her face.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I was afraid. I just didn't want to hurt you all," Taeyong explains, his own voice laced with remorse and vulnerability. The emotional weight of the situation hangs heavy in the room as the family grapples with the overwhelming truth and its impact on their bond.

"But you must tell us. Look, son, if you had told us earlier, we could have done everything possible to save you. Remember, we're your family. No matter what happens, we will not leave you, especially in this kind of situation," his mother expressed with heartfelt emotion.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry, Dad. Maybe I'm a coward. I was afraid to do what's right, and I was afraid to face the truth of this life. A few months ago, I started feeling the symptoms, but I ignored them. Then things worsened. I became weak, lost hair, and a few weeks ago, I went for a checkup, discovering I have blood cancer. I was afraid to tell you because I didn't want you to bear the burden because of me," Taeyong explained, tears streaming down his face.