⟢ hospital.

@✧ yoon midam TW / Violence.

2021.

With Beomseok only moving into Gohyang a few months earlier (around mid to early 2020), it was difficult for him to place roots in terms of properties. His aunt Seolhee had no issue with letting Beomseok live with her, because it meant that he would be in direct contact with his much younger siblings. His mother at the time, was living with her cousin Seolhee, but not contributing much when it comes to household income. Aunt Seolhee is far too kind, Beomseok thought, but he knew he could trust her. There are few people in this world that Beomseok trusted aside from himself and his old gang friends.

Soon, another trustworthy soul revealed themselves to Beomseok by a of pure luck. He wasn’t sure how it happened, perhaps the stranger who lived in town answered Beomseok’s classified ad, or ripped out the number that was on a flyer in the community center. Maybe he saw Beomseok post in the Gohyang town group back then, as it was free game for local ads over there as well. No matter how Yoon Midam found Beomseok, the latter was glad that he did. It was early on in their becoming roommates that Beomseok knew that he could trust Midam with his life. Maybe not in self-defense or in any sort of combat-related situation, but he knew that Midam would have his back … verbally. Beomseok was more of the muscle between the two, and as new roommates that was revealed far too early. There was a reason Beomseok did not want to actually live with his family early on after the move into Gohyang.

Being a fresh new face in town with features so innocent and a tongue so silver, many people trusted Beomseok quickly. He felt a pang of guilt when people believed in him to be a kind guy, because deep down he believed himself to be a not-so-innocent man. Objectively, he did what he could to survive, but for his soul he had done far too much. He gained many useful skills from raising his parents that only improved exponentially when he joined his native gang, but it felt almost wrong. Only almost, a lot of the time he could agree kindness and softness were more easily accessible by people who had semi-stable lives. He was not born into that luxury.

Midam, a few months into their freshly-signed roommate agreement, would be a witness to Beomseok’s methods of survival. Early on, Beomseok dismissed the guy and thought of him as so innocent that it was almost naive. His heart looked like it was in the right place, but it could be easily swayed by dangerous people. People like Beomseok himself.

The young man was still going all around town looking for solid work, and next week he’d attempt to apply at the police station or fire station as a civilian police aid. He had the physical qualifications and his university degree and accumulated knowledge would be enough, so he felt somewhat confident at the coming interviews. Worry plagued him still, and it could be seen as he was sitting on the bench at the bus stop at the edge of the city. He was alone and it was a little past closing hours for most of the local stores, but the buses that passed were always on time. Head ducked down with his hoodie obscuring a section of his face, he looked like the typical loner waiting for a bus. He was just waiting for his dead silent anxieties to pass. While he was sitting perfectly still, his breathing was uneven and his eyes were glossed over. Beomseok’s mind was so far away that his attention to his surroundings faltered for a few minutes. A few minutes of lost focus for him, normally, was life and death. Tonight would be an example.

A scuffle-turned-fight broke out between him and a man, around his age, who was associated with a rival gang to Beomseok’s known group of Wolves. They weren’t exactly enemies, but they were picked up by the enemy gangs around the same time. There was a level of respect between them, but a few months before Beomseok took his official leave from the Wolves, a cardinal sin was committed by the aptly nicknamed ‘Spring Fox,’ Ji Beomseok.

The scarred frenemy, with pride wounded years before by the Fox himself, decided to drag Beomseok to an alleyway a few minutes away from the bus stop. There would be no witnesses, as most people never bothered to pass by this area unless they were walking towards the hospital. His drag was aggressive, aiming to obstruct Beomseok’s eyes by pulling him by the hair and the hood. It was the only way to temporarily handle Beomseok, by surprise.

The fight was quick and, once Beomseok regained full awareness and knew who he was up against, one sided. He was not by any means, physically unfit, and he typically used dirty moves when it came to street fighting. This was more to keep himself alive. He knew his old friend-turned-enemy Dongyeon hated his guts and was out to expose them and other sections of his insides.

Dongyeon stayed dead silent while trying to slam Beomseok against the of the alleyway, and Beomseok took the impact like he normally did, without showing much distress. Beomseok recognised his old friend’s face and reacted almost instantly, his fighting instinct and years of street fight training taking over. Curling his index and middle finger halfway, he rammed the pair into his enemy’s ribcage, the fingers slotted into the assumed spaces between bones. This immediately disorients Dongyeon from his formerly threatening position and he stumbles back into the opposite wall.

Out of desperation, his opponent aimed a solid punch forward but because of the delayed reflexes caused by the rib cage area being bruised, Beomseok dodged it easily. He slid to the side, his back facing the opening of the alleyway, with his enemy’s back facing the dead end section of their little fighting space. He took the chance as Dongyeon was in a more vulnerable standing position, Beomseok slammed his open palm against the side of the man’s head. The impact of the hit was hard enough a swing to jolt the other, spinning his head so quickly to cause a brief collapse. Dongyeon stumbled into the trash cans, barely conscious with a bit of his blood sprayed on the rained-on cement ground and on Beomseok’s hoodie.

The other’s foundation isn’t sound as his body’s resting over the metal trash cans, right where his ribs were bruised. Quickly thinking of a way to get himself out of that situation, Beomseok started aiming all of his hits, a mix of kicks, punches and finger jabs to vary the size of bruises, on the half-conscious man’s left side. It was the easiest way for Beomseok to claim that he was a victim of a hit and run accident.

It was not going to be enough to kill him, but aggressive enough for Beomseok to send a message to him and all of his co-members. To leave him, this city, and his family alone. It was taught to him at an early age that you never beat someone up until they’re gone, only until they get the message.

Once Dongyeon Was out cold, Beomseok peeled off his hoodie that had splatters of red on the front of it. He sighed at the sight of it limp in his arms, with his old acquaintance unconscious behind the hoodie. He flipped the hoodie inside out and ripped off the tag on the back. It didn’t matter much since it was thrifted, and he could claim the exposed seams were a fashion statement if the tag wasn’t visible. He can’t dispose of it easily without losing sight of the guy’s body, so he’d keep the stains of a beatdown concealed.

Squatting down by Dongyeon’s figure, Beomseok grabbed the man by the chin to check for signs of being awake. “Thank god, you.” he whispered at Dongyeon’s face before plopping it down again. He had to take him to the hospital or else his faked accident wouldn’t have a witness.

@✧ iris moon Miyeon was almost always at peak physical health, even when she wanted to spend the days being lazy. Her work allowed her some leeway for rest, since the library wasn’t active 24 hours in the day. When she’s outside work, she’d have to constantly monitor herself in terms of fitness. So hearing Iris mention her bad sleeping habits were disappointing to say the least. A doctor was the last person Miyeon wanted to disappoint. ‘That’s why you’re never gonna visit a therapist, you’re just gonna try to please them, Miyeon.’ she remembered one of her few college friends say during a point where they hung out for coffee in Seoul the month before Miyeon returned to her hometown. She was right of course, but it still hurt.

“Ah, sorry… I do try to sleep, but my mind keeps me awake at night more than I’d like.” The librarian hummed, forming a quick pout as hearing it from the doctor made her want to at least try harder when it came to her sleep. “Why’s that?” Miyeon blinked again without realizing, but her true reaction to that was her nose wrinkling. “My dad doesn’t mind, he has reading glasses. My mother minds, she’s an ex-actress born with perfect vision.” she answered flatly, her glare slowly heating up as if it could melt the lens of her glasses in Iris’ hands. She hated those glasses and her imperfect vision, at least that’s what her mother taught her to think. It’s been years and MIyeon still hadn’t realized that she can call her father ‘dad’ which was informal but her mother just stayed as mother, or Madame Choi, as her close friends teased with how uptight the older woman was.

Listening intently and now focusing her eyes on Iris, whom she felt guilt towards for not sleeping well, Miyeon took multiple mental notes on her advice. “I got it, I can take the test and pay for it as soon as you’re free. A year, that’s alright.” Practically friends felt like Miyeon was stepping over some boundaries, but since Iris wanted it herself, she’ll be okay with it.

”Okay, Iris it is– what?” Miyeon was about to say, until the doctor’s "Never mind, you can refer to me however you wish!" Oh, she understood what that face was immediately and she felt a chuckle almost come up, tickling as she held it back. It was the face of mild panic or fear, something Miyeon would mostly see with newcomers in the town or strangers who get on her bad side. Her holding back a chuckle could at least be seen in her subtle, pursed-lips smile. “I’ll call you Iris, since you want me to. When can I take the test?”

@✧ iris moon "I'm sorry! I just thought you looked youthful... never mind."

Miyeon’s fingertips have been idly tapping away at her phone as she quietly monitored Iris’ actions and responses, her eyebrows raising immediately at her apology. This doctor was immediately assuming her age, which was kind of her to say she was youthful, Miyeon agreed with that. She was just worried to sound informal, since a doctor’s work should never be diminished by friendly informality no matter what. Although Miyeon wasn’t sure if she should risk even asking Iris’ age, they looked about the same, a year gap in age at most. She deemed Iris to look young as well, so she would shift her tone to ask politely. Unfortunately, Iris seemed to want to move forward from her side feeling awkward, so Miyeon allowed her to speak.

"Ocular hypertension in 2021, cleared nil acute by ophthalmology... dry eyes, mild astigmatism." Her ears had registered every single word, though it was whispered by the doctor. She quietly nodded, already settling comfortably in the seat nearby mere milliseconds before Dr. Moon gestured to it. Miyeon sat up straight like normal, crossing one leg over the other and keeping eye contact with Iris whenever she looked up. “No trouble sleeping, I sleep 4-5 hours every night, with some 30 minute gaps in between like I’ve always done since high school.” Miyeon couldn’t resist blinking as Iris mentioned it, not even rolling her eyes but just blinking out of discomfort. She wondered if she should bring up her bad habits during the morning, which included her realizing she kept her contacts on for the night for a few nights a week when she’s stressed.

“My mother always told me to take my contacts off nightly and wear glasses, but only at home. Since I live away from my family now, I just slipped out of the habit a little. They don’t like seeing me in glasses in public–” Miyeon spoke nonchalantly, almost mumbling, as she dug through her purse and pulled out her glasses case, the container coated in dark blue velvet. She opened the case and pulled out her glasses, branded as Polo Ralph Lauren in the PH1001 model. “The frames are a bit thin but the lenses are fairly new, only replaced last year. Are they still good? Also, I think I’d be comfortable knowing if you’re at least older than me. It feels disrespectful addressing a doctor who might be older than me like a friend on the first day.” She refused to let her little thought about Iris fester until the end of the session, it would annoy Miyeon to no end so it was best she dropped it before things moved forward.

@✧ iris moon Miyeon disliked any type of doctor’s appointment, being inside the hospital always reminded her of memories she wished she could erase but going for check-ups was a necessary evil she had to deal with. Staying almost completely still in the waiting room of the resident optometrist, only Miyeon’s thumbs moved slightly as she was quietly reading an ebook on her phone she recently purchased, one leg crossed over the other. Something about the efficiency of human labor, or something.

“Rang Miyeon? If you could follow me into the second room down the hall, please.” Miyeon barely looked up from her phone, dusting off anything that settled on her outfit while she was waiting. She was wearing straight leg denim jeans in dark wash and a white button-down shirt with thin blue stripes going down vertically, and she preferred to not get any dirt on those pieces since they were fairly expensive. With a few particles flying as she tapped her clothing, she rolled her eyes without notice. Dust in the air and her contacts were never a good combination, and Miyeon would instinctively roll her eyes since they had become so sensitive and possibly dry. She followed the doctor to their office and tucked her phone into her purse, which also carried her prescription glasses for emergencies.

Miyeon glanced at the door, her eyelids lowered slightly since there’s less chance of her eyes drying out that way and she bowed as the young doctor introduced herself. “Hello. Iris or Yeju, alright.” At least Miyeon’s lessons in English translated well when she spoke, less of a Korean accent when she said ‘Iris.’ “I can switch between both. Nice to meet you, you can call me Miyeon. I guess we’re close in age.” Miyeon bowed slightly once more before settling in the examination seat inside Dr. Moon’s office. It was strange that a doctor would choose to be addressed by name, it felt informal compared to the more traditional doctors she’s had before.

She went straight into explaining her problem, and without realizing that she rolled her eyes again just from discomfort. “It’s difficult for me to sleep these days, but I don’t wear my contacts to sleep. Only my glasses.” she spoke in her default monotone voice, blinking multiple times and briefly looking at the subtle room decor around her.