Chapter Text
He had to tell her. He had to tell her she was probably going to die.
His jaw tensed after he let out a short, rugged breath.
How could he gather the courage to let her know that the transplant she had been promised was not going to arrive anytime soon? He didn’t know how.
Especially after he saw the light take over her eyes again, suddenly full of a hope she had confessed to him she didn’t let herself feel, when they had informed her a suitable donor had appeared. A near perfect organ match.
Jung Hana had been a patient of his for quite a stretch of time. She had come to the hospital around three years ago because of recurring episodes of dizziness, nausea, trouble sleeping, too frequent urination and a whole lot of weight loss.
Only twenty-eight years old, an athlete. Full of life, fire and wit. And her kidneys were failing. The complication of her illness made it so the damage to her kidneys was permanent. She developed end-stage renal disease and was dependent on dialysis for life.
That or she got a transplant to survive.
“Things are not looking good, I’m afraid.” He had told her a few days ago with a gentle tone. “Dialysis is not working as it should. This can lead up to uremia, you know what that is?” He had asked carefully.
She had been stunned for a bit. He had let her take her time to process.
After a while, she had replied, “Well. Yes, I’ve studied a lot about the illness when I was diagnosed… but Sieun, isn't that fatal?”
“We can manage the symptoms for now with medicine. But if your tests don’t improve… Let’s just hope a good donor shows up, you’re very high on the list at this moment and considering your current condition if an organ suits you better than the others, you will be the one to receive it. The hospital takes priority into account.” That had soothed her a bit. Her frown had softened a little and she had let out a small sigh.
He had felt horrible. Life was always so unfair to the most warm-hearted people.
He had smiled at her. Honest. “I will do the best I can for you. I promise, you will stop being a patient of mine soon, but only because you will be the healthiest judo athlete there is.”
The smile that had been directed at him had been blinding.
“Well, when you say it like that… maybe I would like to be your patient just a while longer.” She had laughed, bright and beamy. He had faced her with an almost bewildered look on his face.
“What? Why would you say that? Don’t even joke.” He had replied to her, an easy smile tugging at his lips.
“Where else would I have such a handsome guy as my doctor? I showed my friends your picture and all of them said you were super hot. Too hot to be a doctor in fact.”
“What picture exactly?” Sieun had asked, eyes narrowed at her playfully.
“There’s a few on the internet, you know. About your published articles, and talks and all of that. Yeon Sieun, young accomplished genius. I still think you’re prettier in person.”
"Not that young anymore. But didn't you just say everyone thinks I looked good in them?”
“Yeah, but you looked so serious! And you do look like that sometimes, quiet, but I know you better. You are kind and warm. Best doc I have ever interacted with.” She had said it with a hint of teasing on her voice but she had looked at him with so much respect that he had almost choked up.
Minji, the nurse by his side, had snickered a little. “He’s only like that with patients. He puts up a wall with everyone else.”
“I feel special, then. Good.”
“Enough about me. We will continue to monitor you and work to better your condition. Remember to not stress so it doesn’t worsen. Okay?”
She had taken a breath and swallowed hard. But she still responded, “Kay, doc. Noted.”
Days passed, and then good news arrived.
The news of the organ match filled him with joy that morning when he found out. They had told her and she smiled the widest smile he had ever seen on her face. Which was saying something. She thanked them, a lot, as if they had been the ones that created the kidney for her. Hana called her mom and told her the good news, begging her to come to the hospital immediately.
Imagine his shock when the head of the department told him the organ would go to someone else. He didn’t give much away even after Sieun hounded him for answers for over fifteen minutes. Argued like there was no tomorrow. But to no avail. What he gathered was that some big shot with too many connections to the hospital skipped line entirely. No priority. No dialysis failure. No toxins building up. No pending death.
Apparently, lives had value only in money. A price attached to them, somewhere invisible he couldn't reach to snatch it out and destroy it.
Sieun sat down in one of the chairs in the empty waiting room. He ran his hands through his hair and had the sudden urge to pull. Hard.
Instead, he forced himself to breathe, to pull himself together. He couldn’t lose it and just get himself fired. He had to get a grip. He sat there for five more minutes and then went where he was supposed to be.
She was there waiting in her room. And now he had to tell her.
He entered the room and saw both Hana and her mother. The mother had her relatively old. She looked a bit frail and tired. She couldn’t donate to her daughter cause she had diabetes and wasn’t viable. But oh had she begged them a lot to let her do it. It broke his heart every time, the nurses calming her down with tears in their eyes. Only when Hana had begun the dialysis treatment and it started to go well had she started to relax.
They greeted him with kind smiles.
“Sieun! How’s it going? You’re a bit pale. Too much work?”
She looked obviously worn down, but she was still pretty, he thought. She had big round brown eyes, lighter than most. Her nose was wide, very cute, and she had a charming smile. Her short hair was cut in a trendy bob. She had informed him it was trendy. She always had something to tell the staff. She was pretty and young. She was kind and had bite. This wasn’t fair.
He greeted them back, forced smile plastered on his face and haunted look he couldn't mask in his eyes, and braced himself. To smother her hope.
Bile went up his throat. He felt the heartburn. It somehow grounded him.
“How do you feel?” He asked.
“Pretty drowsy. A bit itchy.”
He paused for a moment before answering, searching for the right words. There weren't any.
“I’m sorry, Hana. Seems like the transplant is not viable anymore. An urgent case showed up. Life or death. It went to them. I tried, but it was too late. I’m sorry.”
It was brutal, watching her face slowly begin to lose the happy smile and her eyes get filled with dread and tears. She was silent, looking at him with a panicked look. Her face blanched.
"Doctor?" The mother asked. He wanted to avoid her gaze so badly, but he couldn't. He shouldn't. He looked at her wand waited for her to continue. "That can't be true… Please, that's not true. What is happening?"
Her voice raised in dismay and confusion.
Her mother began to cry as she begged for answers, but he had none for her. None that would soothe the blow, none that would make it easier. His knuckles were going white as he made a fist by his side, his nails digging into his own skin. He welcomed the pain.
“We will continue to treat her as we are doing right now and hope that a new match comes around.” He breathed out long through his nose before he continued. “We will continue with the medication to remove the fluid and toxin buildup. But honestly, if this continues and no transplant is possible in the near future, I’m afraid the chances of recovery are extremely low.”
“You mean…” Hana started, “You mean, I won’t be likely to survive. Since treatment isn’t working, I will die.” Her voice shook as she spoke. A new look took over her face. One that horribly resembled resignation. Defeat.
She was brave. So brave.
Sieun wouldn't cower in front of her. He would give her the kindness of honesty.
“Yes.” He responded. The mother began to weep into her hands, bending at the waist. “Still, I will do my best so it doesn't happen soon. To give you as much time as possible.”
Tears left her eyes and fell down her cheeks as she said, weakly, “Yes, doc. I know. I know you will.”
Sieun was in the doctor’s lounge, sitting at the furthest table and drinking a mean cup of black coffee. It had been one hell of an atrocious week. Doctor Seo Juntae sat across from him, yapping away about his day.
“... and then the husband just upped and got in my face. But how is it my fault? It’s not like I gave him infertility and we repeated the tests twice as he requested! Can you believe how violent people are?” He said, all indignant, while chewing on a tomato, tuna and mayonnaise sandwich from the cafeteria. Sieun hated those damn things.
“Felt emasculated maybe… that’s why he got angry and tried to prove himself. Typical behavior.”
“For real. Sometimes this job really sucks. I’m glad I get to save lives. And receive a hefty check. But we get treated like crap. Did I study so hard to get intimidated by a six foot guy?”
The image painted in Sieun’s mind was a bit funny, but he wasn’t going to tell him that. Juntae still looked fresh out of high school. Short and cute. He always complained about that.
His mom had told him it was because of his round glasses and she believed a change of style would help him, so when he told Sieun, he went out of his way to buy him for his birthday a new pair after asking for ones that looked elegant and professional. It was mission impossible though, he was cursed with cuteness. He gifted him a coat afterwards, since the first present was a total failure.
“I ask myself that sometimes, too. Did I study so hard for this? Was this what my hard work amounts to?”
That made Juntae pause his high spirited chewing. He knew why Sieun had been so down for the last week.
“So… how is she?”
“Worsening by the day. I think she will only last for about one more week.” He said, looking at the ceiling and feeling a heavy weight on his chest.
“I’m sorry, Sieun. That’s unfortunate. Just… try not to lose yourself. This happens sometimes. Losing patients. We know we can’t save everyone, there’s times when it’s out of our hands and we can’t do anything. We’ve been there before.”
“But this wasn’t one of those times. There was something we could have done. We had the means.” He countered. There was now an edge to his tone, sharp and biting.
Ugly thoughts about the place he was working at were starting to fester in his mind. Every time he went to Hana’s room and saw her try so hard to appear brave while life was slipping away from her, he felt an immense wave of resentment wash over him.
“I get what you mean. I don’t know what else to say. Society sucks. That makes it all the more important to try harder for every new patient. If you weren’t here, how many would not have made it out of danger?” Juntae said quickly. After a pause, he added with more care, more meaning, “It wasn’t your call. It’s not your fault.”
It did little to settle his conscience or the rage simmering low in his heart. But he still felt a quiet and sudden affection for Juntae. He was glad he met him when their internship began. Glad he had a friend like him.
“Thank you.” He said after a beat, sincere. “You got a bit of mayonnaise on your cheek, by the way.”
He got up as Juntae reached for a napkin and mumbled some thanks of his own and went out of the lounge, direct to Hana’s room. He found Minji right at her door.
When he entered she greeted him with a small smile. Somehow, even in this situation, it reached her eyes.
“Hey, Minji. Hey, Doctor Handsome. How’s it going.”
He raised a brow at the nickname, but let it go. “Busy day. Barely slept.”
Then he went on to check her vitals, ask her questions and look through her tests. He ordered Minji to administer the medicines. Just about as he was about to leave her to rest she asked,
“Can you stay? Just for a little while, I want to ask you something.”
Her expression made the decision easy for him.
“Sure. I can avoid work for a few minutes.”
“My friends and teammates have been visiting me, helping me do stuff I always wanted to do.” She started. He felt a knot in his throat. “And I want something only you can give me.”
“What would that be?”
“Can we take a picture?” She asked. Uncertain, shy. It was a first for her, usually overly familiar and bold. “Remember how I said I have only seen very serious pictures of you? I’d like to have one where you smile. To treasure it and show it to my friends. And since I’m the one that came up with the idea, I should be in the photo as well, right?”
He didn’t care that it was unprofessional. She deserved as much happiness as possible.
“Okay.”
He stepped next to her bed and leaned down so their faces could be side by side while she opened the photo app to take the picture. And they smiled. She took it with a big, satisfied grin on her face and even when her skin looked pale, her dark circles a deep purple and her hair a little thin and dull, she was gorgeous in his eyes.
“This one to show my friends. I’ll tell them I almost bagged the hot doctor.”
“Shut it.” He said playfully.
“But I want another one. Just for myself. Please.”
He sighed hard. But he didn’t need to say anything, she knew she won. She had that look in her eye. He gave her a soft kiss above her temple and she took the photo. Then she asked for his personal number to send them to him. “I know you shouldn’t, but it won’t matter soon that I have it, right?”
Hey, don’t say that, it’s not true, he wanted to say. He couldn’t.
So he gave it to her and received the pictures. The second one made his heart ache something ugly, for just that small chaste kiss made her eyes shine like crazy with tears. A real human, heartfelt moment, now captured forever. He moved now to exit the room. He had more patients to attend, after all.
“Thank you, Sieun. For being my friend. It wasn’t all unbearable, thanks to you. And sorry.”
He stopped by the door, hands in his pockets. Body tense. “Why are you apologizing to me?” He said after a beat.
“I probably made it difficult for you, pushing for us to get close like this. Being this familiar, calling you by your name. Joking around with you.” Emotions were all over her voice.
“Nonsense. It’s not over yet, right? You’re still here. If you are sorry, then hang on a little longer.”
“Will do.” She answered. Sad.
Eight days later, she passed.
Her mother told him to come to the funeral, said Hana would have liked it. He went.
He paid his respects and stayed as much as he could. And while they were there, him and her mom, her friends, her teachers and teammates, sitting by the tables, he was suddenly livid. Because everyone heard of him and everyone thanked him for his hard work. For treating her kindly.
But nobody knew that as a doctor he couldn’t do shit for her. That the hospital they thought did their best work threw away her life for a rich bastard that no way in hell deserved it more than her. And it hurt. Just looking at the amount of people that showed up for her, to say goodbye, made it all the more clear.
He looked at her photo. She was smiling, healthy, wearing her judo uniform with a black belt. Her ashes were ready to take to the columbarium. He didn’t know it was possible for a person to feel as much vicious bitterness as he was experiencing right at that moment.
Several months passed. Patients came and went. He busied himself with work. Tried not to linger on the emotions he pushed down with all his might so he wouldn’t break. Break himself or someone’s face.
He turned thirty-two. Juntae threw him a modest five minute birthday party in the doctor’s lounge and he was embarrassed when his colleagues and nurses sang happy birthday to him. They managed to make him smile though. It was touching. And none of them could sing. They gave him a box of chocolate muffins and Juntae gifted him an expensive looking scarf.
So life went on.
Sieun was out on a lunch date with his mom. It had been a few months since he had seen her and a few weeks since they had spoken. She insisted on meeting on his free day, so he accepted.
The restaurant she picked was, of course, luxurious. He let her pick the food for him. “I know what’s best here, trust me.” She had said. He was picking at his food while she responded mails on her phone. Conversation far and between. The food wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t what he would usually eat, and the quantity was for sure gonna leave him hungry for hours, he just knew.
“Well, you aren’t saying much, Sieun.”
“You know how it is, there’s not a lot going on besides work. Don’t know what to say.”
“Yes, that makes sense. I’m so proud of you for getting to where you are.” She said, easy smile. Somewhat distant eyes.
He remembered how that used to make him feel something. He used to be so desperate to prove himself to her, so he could be at her side, so he could get her to look at him. Truly look at him.
“But it doesn’t really look good for a doctor of your caliber to be so isolated. You should mingle a bit more. I have some influential friends that would like to meet you.”
But alas, he was still an afterthought. Her own position and power always at the forefront. She only lived in her own little bubble, not much else mattered.
She truly was one of those people that never changed.
“How about your love life? Don’t tell me that there’s nobody to catch your eye at work. At such a huge hospital there must be someone interesting! I’d like you to get married. You are at that age.”
“I don’t think I could get married.”
He didn't try to mask the sarcastic tone of his voice, but his mother didn't pick up on it.
“What do you mean? You are smart, accomplished and good looking. Don’t sell yourself short.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He continued to stare at her blankly.
“But you should trim your hair a little, it’s getting long and it doesn’t look as put together. You can give an even better impression.”
He decided at that moment to grow it out even more.
“You might be forgetting something.” He said, his tone curt. “I can marry a woman. But I don’t want to marry a woman, remember?”
She stopped typing and looked at him. She seemed taken aback, her eyes now nervously looking around, fleeting. She put her hair behind her ear, or tried to, since it was already there. A nervous habit.
“Well… Hmm, sorry, Sieun, I thought- I didn’t know you still- Never mind. Let’s talk about something else then.” He held down the urge to roll his eyes right in front of her.
He remembered when he told her he liked men.
He was seventeen years old, living with his dad. Even back then, he had these… appointments with her mother. He couldn’t call them anything other than that, to be honest. It’s not like they hung out, there was no affection, just something he could tell she wanted to do to fool herself that she cared for him and did enough.
But one of these times, she brought something up. A friend of hers had an amazingly smart daughter with an amazingly set up life ahead of her. He could see what was coming from a mile away.
Sieun tried to tell her many times that he didn’t want to meet her, wasn’t interested in meeting her at all. He had to study. But she said it’d be alright to have a one afternoon break. So, a date was set up for them. She drove him to the mall, and she was already there waiting. Her name was Nam Jiwoo. She was polite and he could tell she wanted to try just for her father.
One look at Sieun’s blank and tired face, though, and disappointment took over her expression. They went to the movies so they wouldn’t have to talk. It was painfully awkward. After that they went around the mall. She tried small-talk. He could tell she wanted him to open up. She started to brush her hand against his. He couldn’t bear it anymore.
“Why are you trying so hard? Do you even like me?” He asked, bluntly.
“Well, no, but I could. It would make my father happy. And you are not bad looking anyway. There’s nothing bad about getting to know each other, right?” She was nervous now.
“Jiwoo. Sorry. I could never like you.” He thought this would suffice to make the situation clear. Back then, his social skills weren’t as developed as they were now. They were practically nonexistent.
“...Why would you even say something like that?” When her eyes filled with tears, he realized he fucked up.
“No- I mean, you are great. It’s not what I meant.” He clarified now, with a desperate edge to his voice.
“Then?” She asked, her lips trembling a bit.
Now he was brimming with embarrassment. He could feel his ears getting really hot. “Don’t tell anyone. I think-, You see-, I might not like women.” He answered in a low voice.
“Oh.” Finally, she stopped looking so hurt. Understanding softened her face. “You are pretty bad at communicating, you know?” She said after a while.
“Sorry.”
“I won’t tell. Don’t worry. But let’s just go home.” He couldn’t have agreed faster even if he tried.
After that agonizingly awkward date, he went home. Days passed and she didn't tell anyone, as she promised. He was thankful. Still, he decided to tell her mother the truth so she wouldn’t pull something like that again. When he did, she was shocked.
So much so she completely waved it off and acted as if he didn’t say anything. Fifteen years later, in front of her and in another boring restaurant, he realized she was still clueless.
Tuesday came around. Sieun walked to the hospital. It was early in the morning, the sky a head-turning mixture of gray and pink with a bunch of cirrus clouds that let the light shine through them beautifully. The air was cold but it felt refreshing on his skin. He watched as his breath turned into a hazy mist. He thought it was gonna be a good day.
He had to prepare his patient for his upcoming liver transplant surgery. He was fifteen years old. His name Kim Hajoon, a very shy and introverted boy that reminded him of his younger self. After months of excruciating wait a match finally came by. He was called earlier that morning to go to the hospital to prepare, they couldn’t waste time.
He didn’t expect it this time. The other shoe to drop like this.
There hadn’t been any more shady business with the waiting lists. People had gotten their surgeries as they should have, when they should have, with the match that was promised.
No incident in these past eight months.
So when the head of department, Doctor Kwon, took him aside as soon as he stepped foot on their floor, he was confused.
And when the first sentence that came out of his mouth was: There is a more urgent case. The liver will go to another patient. You will have to inform his family, he saw red.
"Sir, I don't understand," he said, alarmed. "This is urgent. We're talking about a child here. We cannot afford to lose the opportunity for this patient."
"The decision has been made, sorry, Doctor Yeon. Sometimes life works like this, and professionals have to make a difficult decision."
“What are you talking about? I must be mistaken, sir. On what grounds has this difficult decision been made? What other patient that we have here has passed the tests and screenings to match this donor? Or hasn't there been any at all and the hospital has taken another deal under the table?” He spat with venom. The doctor looked at him as if he had grown another head.
“Yeon Sieun… are you forgetting yourself? Who do you think you are? Do you think you decide who lives or dies?” his superior responded, raising his voice by the second.
Sieun stared at the man in front of him. His ferret-like face was contorted with indignation, brow furrowed and deep lines carving long paths on his forehead. His upper lip was snarled.
He had no right no feel slighted, Sieun thought.
“No, I don't just decide who lives or dies on a whim. Do you?” he replied, voice sardonic.
“Do you want to get fired? Don’t think I won’t, I won’t tolerate any disrespect from you," doctor Kwon howled, nailing his finger into his chest a couple of times. "I don’t care if you are a brilliant doctor, if you put this hospital in jeopardy by acting out your career will end. Do you understand? The decision came from high up, go do your work as I do mine.”
He scoffed. “So that’s how this works?”
“Yes, that’s how this works! You still don’t know how the world functions? This is reality!”
“This is a HOSPITAL, lives matter here.” He bit back, angry out of his mind.
Was he the insane one here? Was he in the wrong for not accepting the rotten logic this man was presenting him?
The other man fired back, “Does the life of the other person not matter because you don’t know them personally?”
Sieun didn't let himself get distracted by the gall and nerve of him.
“It matters, but does it matter more than the life of a kid because they have more money? We have a protocol to follow! It’s there for a reason, so none of us just decides to do whatever we want!”
Doctor Kwon sighed heavily and tried to reason with him, pushing a hand through his thinning hair. “I know how that feels, trust me, I've been there, but-”
“I won’t sit by and let that kid get his life stolen from him!” Sieun yelled.
“You won’t? You did before.” Kwon said sourly, huffing.
That hit Sieun like a slap to the face. He couldn't say anything else.
Doctor Kwon patted him twice in the shoulder. It felt disgusting.
“Sorry. The new patient is one distant cousin of the director’s wife. Related family. Pretty important. You get it right? Explain to the kid's family they will have to wait for another opportunity and tell your team to get the patient in room 122 ready for surgery. Update me later. I would have done this myself, but I have a meeting to go to.” He said tiredly as if Sieun was a little kid that had finally understood reason. Then he left.
He stood rooted there for a while, breath ragged and looking wild. He felt his limbs frozen, his feet nailed to the floor. His hands shook with rage and his eyes watered with guilt. When he got his breathing under control he looked around.
How much he had worked to get here. The most prestigious hospital in Seoul. Six torturous years studying in Seoul University. All his sweat, tears and sleepless nights. He was and felt accomplished.
He liked being useful to others and saving lives. He liked to give lectures, talks. Enjoyed giving advice to students. He was fond of his patients. The residents. His coworkers. He built himself a life here. He built it brick by brick and finally managed to feel steady, safe.
He thought of his parents. How much he studied to please them, to hear that they were proud of him. He remembered his mother’s words. I am proud of you, Sieun. Did it mean as much now as it had back then?
So, could he do it? Do what he was thinking of doing? Forsake everything he had and be exiled from his profession in shame? He had a comfortable, stable life. He had pride in his job.
And then he remembered Hana. Her smile and her trusting heart. She had trusted him. And in the end, he saw her ashes. The taste of something foul hit his tongue. As if he could feel in his own flesh the awful consequences of their actions, revulsion climbing up his nerves, slithering over his heart.
When he realized he was weighing the importance between the comforts of his position and someone’s life, he swiftly stopped agonizing. The decision was made.
“Thank you, Hana, for reminding me. And sorry, for everything.” He muttered, closing his eyes. A new found courage in his heart.
He instructed his team to take the patient in room 118 and to prepare him for surgery as soon as possible. Kim Hajoon was getting the transplant today.
Fallout be damned.