He did not know how many minutes in the clock had ticked by and how many deep anxious sighs it took for his mother to calm down from weeping relentlessly in his arms. The corners of Jin's eyes softened as he pressed his palm on her back, feeling the warmth of her as he rubbed in an attempt to soothe her. He always knew from both of them that he might be the one who often shed tears, but it was his mother who was the hardest to console.
She consistently seemed strong and tough on the surface, but he understood better than anyone that when her barriers are down, she is just as frightened and resentful with herself as anyone he knew. She always cares—overthinks. The thought of not doing well enough to raise him on her own. The incessant pressure to do more on her part, knowing that his father's lack of presence damaged him mentally. All the years she had put him first, and when it was time for her to prioritize herself just for a day, he had undergone an incident.
And he could not imagine how much his mother had gone through self-blame this time.
It makes him hate himself for regularly letting the people he loves bear the blame for his pain. He did not want her to believe that her happiness came with a cost or to feel blameworthy for choosing herself on the day that is fated to be hers.
He loves her as much, and he condemns himself, too, for allowing her to feel this way.
It was only when the doctor and nurses initiated and approached them, as it was time to change his bandages, that his mother pulled back and began wiping her own tears. She exhales in one plunging breath and nods her head at the doctor. She stands and moves to the side to clear a way for them while clutching her cardigan tightly around her chest. Her moist eyes focused on the people mending him.
Jin smiles at her reassuringly, feeling worried yet grateful. He could feel the tears prickling in his eyes, and if things escalated further, he did not know what it would take to stop them from turning this room into a grieving mess.
A nurse mends and replaces a new bandage on his head with gentle and meticulous hands while the other nurse kneels on the floor, carefully leaning to check the needle on the back of his hand. He watches her closely. Her light blonde hair is neatly tucked in a tight low bun. He did not know if they were natural until she raised her head to him, her bright blue eyes meeting his. Her high profile was a stark contrast to the usual soft Asian features he saw on a day-to-day basis.
Her foreign beauty reminds him of everyone who has been orbiting around him lately, and he has only experienced such a phenomenon when he associated himself with his dearest Hiro—Speaking of the man himself.
Hiro was no different. He was simply otherworldly.
His heart nearly dropped when the woman leaned towards him to stand, and he went to complete ease when she stood to switch the dextrose of his pole with a new one.
"I am going to change your needle to avoid any contamination. Will that be alright?" She says to him, her eyes as kind as her voice and smile.
A shudder left his lips, and he looked back at her warily. An unpleasant memory flashes in his head, leaving his body tensed and cold. He awkwardly averts his eyes from her face and gives her a little nod as a response.
His toes curl inward. It's okay.
"Alright, here we go." She beams softly, as if she were not communicating with an adult. Her gestures and expressions were a mixture of gentleness that he now finds eerily interactive.
He shuts his eyes when he feels the needle sliding out of his skin and piercing back in. He could feel the back of his head prickling from his growing anxiety.
It's okay. He won't be harmed.
His mother is nearby.
So is Hiro.
He opens his eyes and looks up at the ceiling without moving his injured head before he checks the room, making it not too obvious. Mr. Harashi was nowhere in sight as well, and the butler's murmurs in the hall were barely audible to hear—he was speaking to someone.
Where did his naughty cub go?
"You have nothing on?"
Jin turns his attention back to her and sees her looking at his exposed thighs in question. He subconsciously squeezes his thighs close, his cheeks turning pink. He nervously glances at her. "Y-Yes, I had to use the restroom."
Thank God, the man had cleaned him!
The young nurse smiles and gives him a firm nod, although there was a slight hesitance in her face that shows her light urge to say something, but she preserves her silence. She took the clothes from the bottom tray.
Jin looks down at his fingers—rubbing and pressing his thumbs together until they turn pale in sight, unlike the redness on his cheeks when he cannot seem to shake the events that truly happened out of his head.
"We brought you fresh change, if you still prefer our hospital's linen?"
Jin gives the new and clean pair of hospital gown and safety shorts in her hands a scrutinizing gaze. He swallows hard. "I like to wear my usual clothes."
To be the only one wearing something so thin is too awkward for him. "Is. . .that okay?"
Asami covers her mouth with her hands as she looks at her son in awe, relieved that he was willing to communicate with someone well enough despite what had happened. She continues to watch them from a close distance, keeping her grateful tears at bay.
Afterward, the doctor kept her stethoscope after checking his normal heartbeat and breathing. "Of course, we can help you with that." She looks at the new bandage on his head and gives the neat work an appreciative smile. "Oh, my, look how well you look."
"Feel uncomfortable in here?" She further asks as she touches the rear of his head with the tips of her fingertips. "Any itching discomfort? Or pain?"
Jin meekly crouches, distracted by her radiant smile. He shyly looks away. "No, doctor."
Seeing him curled adorably puts a smile on the doctor's and the nurses' faces. Their eyes beam candidly at his shyness as they continue to examine every bit of language his body expresses.
"Well, I suggest you refrain from moving your head too much as it may break the stitches, okay?"
The doctor rises and walks to have a private conversation with his mother regarding his state and recovery. He waited patiently in bed and glanced down at his hanging feet as he swung them alternately in the air, grinning at how soft the bed felt. It bounces right in contact. A few moments later, his mother turns to leave Hiro's chamber to fetch his pajamas in the next room. Seeing her disappear through the entry doors, he glanced at the joint glass door of their room.
The entire wall was now covered with thick blood-red curtains, the size so massive that it almost reached up to his couple-of-meters-unbelievable-ceiling.
No one would even bother to move it—no one would suspect a thing.
Heat flushed in his cheek, mirroring the material's deep shade. There was an amused glimmer in his eyes from the little secret he and Hiro shared. He strays his eyes from the curtains and warily fiddles with his fingers in his seat again, upon feeling two pairs of eyes boring holes in his face.
"Hello, I am Abigail," The nurse with blonde hair bends to meet his eye level. She had already worn a welcoming smile on her face. "This is my partner, Sierrah. We are your duty nurses."
Abigail points her finger towards the doctor at a distance, who was currently busy tapping records on her tablet. "That is Doctor Taylor, she is your new private physician."
Jin stares at her dumbfoundedly—stunned that she could speak Korean fluently. Wow. But what is more astounding is the fact that this family is generous enough to appoint a physician to cater to his needs. He was still glad that he woke up in Hiro's chamber instead of the hospital.
"If there is anything you wish to consult with your health, anything to ask or require our service, please make sure to add this number to your phone and email, and do reach out to us."
Abigail beams at him with her eyes shut candidly. She hands him something, and he flinches before his shoulders ease when she apologizes and raises the card in her hand for him to have a clear look.
"Mr. Woo was very strict on the processing. Don't worry, we are the best in our hierarchy as we aim to be."
Mr. Harashi? How kind of him.
He touched the card, and his lips formed a small 'o' shape in further astonishment. The texture was smooth against his fingers. The material felt light and cold. It was not paper, but a thin platinum business card.
"I can speak Korean, and Sierrah is still learning. . ." Abigail turns to Sierra, who waves her hands at him as a warm greeting. Her rich chocolate skin was as beautiful as her lovely curls.
"But worry not, Sierrah could understand Korean fully."
He lifts his hands and waves at her, too. He slowly beams at them. "Oh." He timidly puts his hands on his face and looks at them with the gesture, "Beautiful you." He says in English—nervous.
"Oh my goodness. You are undoubtedly a fallen angel. Mr. Woo was right." Sierrah coos and inches closer to him while giggling, her hand coming to touch and shake his left hand lightly. Meanwhile, a hushed squeal leaves Abigail's lips as she holds her own cheek. She leans closer to him as well and takes his right hand.
They both shake his hands gently. "Oh, you are so adorable. Nice to meet you!"
He blinks and flushes, flustered. "Kai hyung?" (Big brother kai?) He can't help but ask, the unfamiliar name cruising awkwardly on his tongue.
He cannot remember if he had ever said Hiro's first name, nor can he abide by presuming Mr. Harashi called him a fallen angel to a stranger. . .although the man did call him pretty when they first met.
But he is sure Mr. Harashi did want nothing but to be on his bride's good side for him to say that.
"Oh, yes, the prince himself."
He watches his own shoulders sink in relief, realizing these are the people Hiro trusted to look after him. His heart thumps in glee—in complete awe. "Prince?" Well, Hiro does look princely. His lower lids secretly beam in fondness.
Their conversation was interrupted when his mother came back shortly, emerging through the doors with a familiar pair of clothing in her hands. He flushed further in deep red that he could no longer feel the numbing heat on his cheeks. His mother hands his pair of pink strawberry pajamas to the nurses, and his eyes nervously dart to their stunned faces.
He looks down at his shaking fingers.
"Oh my gosh."
"Aw, this is adorable. I approve of this, my shayla."
They helped him stand up to his feet. Despite his shyness, the nurses made sure to look away while slipping his underwear up his legs to give him a sense of privacy. A heavy breath of relief escapes his lips. He slumped back in bed, fully covered. The nurses excused themselves to get a light meal for his growling stomach. His mother sits beside him and starts wiping his face with fragrant wipes, and he feels the soothing coldness in contrast to the warmth of the room.
He shuts his eyes as his mother rubs his plump cheeks, and they turn a trim shade of pink from the slight pressure. He opens his eyes, his lashes fluttering from the moisture.
"Don't worry about anything and focus on your recovery." His mother hums to him softly and takes another sheet of wipes to wipe his neck.
Jin presses his lips together, "But I'm scared for you."
Asami pauses and slowly puts her hands in her lap. Her same shade of eyes eyeing him in bewilderment, "Scared?"
She looks shocked.
"Have they been nice to you?" His voice was quiet. His eyes dart down to the wipes in her hands. He did not need to mention names. His mother knows exactly who he is referring to.
When he glanced back up, there was a lovely smile on her lips—the sight almost assuring.
"Sweetheart, this family is full of warm people. His children had been anything but kind."
His heart breathed in relief, and he knew by then that he had nothing to worry about. He no longer cares if other people disapprove of them. It should not matter when Hiro's family accepts them without judgment. A strange sense of guilt prickles through his scalp, overwhelming him before he brushes it off and tries to keep a neutral expression.
His mother fixes the collar of his pajamas while scrutinizing the weirdly blank expression on his face. "The entire family would have dinner together anytime soon." She smiles. "But your recovery is everyone's priority. The dinner arrangements have to wait."
His face softens at the news. "They'd be willing to meet me?"
"Of course, sweetheart." She smiles, her slanted eyes beaming down at him, "They didn't want to pressure you too much, given that you are a shy boy."
"Shy?" He gasped in horror, his cheeks turning rosy. "H-How do they know that?"
His mother's laughter echoes—filling a space of the room. Her fingers cover the thinness of her lips, "Well, darling, they did see you at the gathering when we first arrived here. Courtesy of Kai's kindness to aid you. That boy is unbelievably caring."
And just like that, he was reminded of the horrible embarrassment he felt that day.
"Don't be anxious, sweetheart. They adore you." She fixes his long strands of bangs, "We might need to trim your hair a bit now."
His mother is right. He can't just run away from them. Haru and Hiro were already generous enough to accept him. A warm and hopeful smile smeared across the soft plump of his bottom lip. There might be more people he could make friends with. The idea of it puts a giddy sensation in his chest.
The room suddenly felt warmer, and he felt a feather-like caress across his back. His heart ached slightly before pulsing rapidly. He shudders knowingly, his instinct telling him to turn around—to where the entrance door was wide open.