Small and Fragile Things - Chapter 45

Home.

Tears clung to the corners of Irang’s eyes as she gave a small nod. Her memory cut off completely. She remembered stumbling outside like she was running away, sitting somewhere for a moment… and then nothing. Darkness. Her vision had spun, her stomach churned, and at some point, she must have fainted.

If the memories were going to be cut off anyway, it would’ve been nice if the ones before it had been erased too.

A tear slid down her pale cheek. The grief she hadn’t digested leaked out without a sound.
Maybe it showed in the complicated look on her face—smiling, frowning, and finally forcing another shaky smile.

Muk-hyun didn’t ask anything.

While her quiet tears soaked into the pillow, he simply sat and looked at her face. When enough time had passed, he reached out with an unreadable expression and wiped her damp cheeks.

“All cried out?”

“……”

“Bad dream?”

His voice was gentle—too gentle. Irang squeezed her eyes shut. If only it had been a dream. If only all of this was just the lingering fever of a bad nightmare.

Her mother… who hadn’t even recognized her at first glance. That slow, dawning look of realization turning to shock—it was far too vivid to be a dream.

“Were you that scared? You were crying for your mom like a little kid.”

Her eyes, heavy with sorrow, turned toward him. Her lips trembled, dry and cracked, her cheeks twitching as she tried to smile anyway. Her big eyes curved prettily, making her look all the more pitiful.

Muk-hyun cupped her cheek with his large hand. He rubbed his thumb against her tense lips, studying her for a moment, then let out a quiet, unreadable sigh.

And then, out of nowhere, he began speaking.

“I don’t have a mom. She passed away when I was thirteen. My grandmother was around, but…”

He told her, plainly and without embellishment, about his poor but happy childhood, the sudden tragedy, and later meeting his father and half-siblings. There were big pieces missing in the story, but it was honest.

Every so often, he touched her forehead, and she realized with a start that it felt cool to his hand. She was running a fever.

Her weak body had always been like this—once a fever started, she’d be bedridden for days. She knew she wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.

She watched his hand retreat… and thought, Why am I just watching? I can hold onto him.

Illy had always lived passively, never taking the initiative to do anything for herself. She’d learned that much about herself from being around others.

But right now, she wasn’t Illy—she was Irang. And she didn’t want to keep living as someone abandoned by her parents, helpless to change anything.

So she gathered her courage and grabbed his hand.

“Thank you… Muk-hyun-ssi.”

In that glittering world, people dressed to perfection called each other that way—‘someone-ssi,’ ‘someone-nim.’ When he’d stepped away earlier, she’d practiced it quietly to herself, waiting for the chance to try it out.

“Don’t get cheeky.”

“It sounds nice, though.”

“Who says it does?”

His reply was gruff, but he didn’t pull his hand away.

“I have a mom, but… we were separated when I was too young to remember much.”

“Yeah.”

Actually, she didn’t even recognize me. The words wouldn’t leave her mouth. She kept them buried, and Muk-hyun, who had been quietly listening, reached out.

“Close your eyes.”

The kiss came without warning. His hands framed her face, and there was a faint scent of mint—something she’d never smelled from him before. His lips, careful at first, dampened her parched ones before easing in deeper, tangling with hers in slow, patient movements.

It was like letting ice cream melt in her mouth. His lips, usually burning hot, were today warm and soft. Sweet. Gentle. So gentle it made her feel ticklish inside.

Why was he so tender today?

She liked the kind of kiss that stole her breath away, but this… this kind was nice too.
She liked the feel of his long fingers brushing her damp lashes as they kissed.

When she smiled without thinking, he smiled too—planting small pecks between their lips, nibbling lightly, tugging playfully.

She was drunk on the mix of comfort and bliss, half-convinced the bed was rocking like a cradle, when he whispered against her mouth:

“You don’t need to force yourself to remember what’s blurry.”

Irang’s eyes flew open, meeting his gaze.

“You and I… we’re long past the age of looking for our moms. Right?”

Her chest ached.

“…Yeah.”

She brushed a few loose strands of hair off his straight nose and asked the question that had been on her mind.

“How’d you get your scar…?”

When she tried to clear her throat, the pain made her wince. He lifted the glass of water from the bedside table and held it to her lips. His touch sent chills down her skin—her fever must be spiking badly.

“Trying to save my mom.”

He didn’t go into detail, but she understood enough. The scar on his nose wasn’t the only one that hadn’t healed.

“…That must’ve hurt.”

Invisible wounds were worse—they festered without a cure. She knew that better than most, which was why she said it.

For a second, his eyes seemed to darken, but the change was so quick she wondered if she imagined it.

“It did. So I decided—never again. I won’t save anyone so carelessly.”

Her fever-fogged mind couldn’t read into the weight of his words. She only caught his smile and let her own words slip out.

“I wish I could save someone too. If I got smarter, if I became normal… I’d want to. Really.”

“You can barely stay on your feet, and you want to save someone?”

“Like you…”

“…My mother didn’t appreciate it. Told me never to do it again.”

Irang wondered why he was telling her these things today, but her strength was already gone. Between the fever and the crying, she was drained.

“…I’m sleepy.”

“Sleep.”

Before she fully sank under, she murmured, her voice threadbare.

“Don’t… want to be alone…”

She never finished the sentence.

Her lips were dry from her hot breath, her eyes ringed red, her cheeks somehow looking thinner already.

Muk-hyun stared at her frail figure for a long while before moving. Then he noticed—she was still holding onto him. His gaze dimmed as he looked at her thin hand gripping his.

“There was a kitten once. Half-dead, but it crawled to me like it wanted to live.”

He gently pried her fingers free and tucked her hand under the blanket, then adjusted the IV drip to run the fever medicine faster.

“And the next day, it just… died. Before I could do anything. Just like that.”

He reached for the thermometer but set it down without using it. His fist tightened.

“Maybe I never had the ability to take care of it in the first place.”

His voice vanished into the air, unheard. His eyes emptied out completely. He looked at her pale face floating in the darkness like a lone moon… then finally turned away.

“If you don’t have something, you can’t lose it.”

The cold murmur sounded more like a warning to himself than anything else.

***

Moon Heesook had been sick for days.

Five nights ago, on the ride home from the farewell match, she’d thrown up. At home, she lost all her strength and collapsed in bed.

Kim Deok-gyu had tried everything to help—comfort, medicine, small gestures—but nothing worked.

“Sook-ah, take your medicine.”

“……”

“Then at least have some warm tea. Hmm?”

“…Honey.”

The moment she reluctantly sat up, he rushed to prop a pillow behind her.

At first, she’d kept her lips sealed in quiet anger for two days. Then she’d only sniffled through the next few, and now—finally—she seemed ready to talk.

But the conversation started with words he didn’t want to hear.

“Why didn’t you tell me? How long were you planning to hide it?”

“It’s something I can fix quickly. I didn’t want to worry you for nothing.”

“Quickly? You’ve been caught in Chairman Choi Jung-do’s hands. He knows everything about Illy—everything. It’s already out in the open, so how are you going to fix it? Huh?”

“There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to be this anxious, I promise. Don’t you trust me?”

Heesook had never doubted her husband’s abilities before. He was reliable—always had been. She knew how much respect he commanded, even professionally.

Maybe that was why this shook her even more.