Chapter 7: A Dream That Feels Too Real

I often have the same dream.

It’s never a continuation, but after seeing it more than a few times, I began to notice things I hadn’t before.

The content of the dream is always the same.

“Hae-su. Shouldn’t you wake up now? ‘Five more minutes’ has already been said ten times. That’s 50 minutes.”

“…Mm.”

“You sleep too much, Hae-su… I’m lonely, really lonely….”

The dream always begins with Choi Hae-su sleeping.

And right beside him, clinging closely, is Se-ha.

He tries to wake Hae-su up, sometimes becoming a nuisance, poking his cheek again and again.

Maybe it’s because I spent so long waiting for Se-ha while he slept, but the first time I had this dream, the strongest feeling was fascination.

Se-ha’s gentle tone.

The tenderness in even the tips of his fingers.

Everything was exactly like the Se-ha in Hae-su’s happiest memories.

That’s why it felt even more unfamiliar.

It almost felt like this couldn’t possibly be a dream.

And so, I even entertained the childish thought that maybe this was reality.

“Hae-su. Since it’s come to this, just sleep a little longer.”

“……”

“I’ll go somewhere for a bit.”

Even in the dream, I could hear Se-ha’s voice while I slept.

So when he said that after waiting for me, I had so many questions rising to my throat—yet I couldn’t ask a single one.

Where are you going?

Where?

Do you have plans?

The feeling of my throat being tightly blocked stirred up anxiety.

Light poured down above me, and Se-ha’s voice gradually faded away.

I felt desperate.

I should have opened my mouth and held onto him right away—so why couldn’t I say anything?

Only my lips kept moving endlessly.

If I kept trying, it felt like whatever was blocking my throat would eventually give in to my stubbornness.

Se-ha, Se-ha.

I kept repeating his name without stopping.

“Do I have to be awake when you come back?”

Where are you going, Se-ha?

Where exactly?

“When you’re active, this is what makes me sad, Hae-su. It’s great seeing your beautiful side so much, but you keep taking short naps in between. It must not have felt like you slept at all. And still, my constant calls must have made it hard for you.”

No, that’s not true.

I’ve never thought that, not even once.

“Stay quietly and sleep a little more… without me.”

No.

I’ll wake up now.

Se-ha.

Se-ha….

“Se-ha!”

And just like that, the dream ends, and Hae-su opens his eyes.

He finally manages to force Se-ha’s name out of his throat—but of course, no one is beside him.

In that dream that felt like reality, Kwon Se-ha was right next to him.

He even shared his warmth.

But because Choi Hae-su woke up too late, Se-ha couldn’t wait and disappeared.

“Se-ha… Se-ha….”

He jumps up, leaves the bed, and rushes across the living room.

The kitchen, the bathroom, the terrace—nowhere is Se-ha to be found.

Only after running wildly through the large house and failing to find him does he realize it.

That everything just now was a dream—

And this cold silence is reality.

That Kwon Se-ha doesn’t exist here,

And that Choi Hae-su waking up alone like this every day… is reality.

The dream repeated dozens of times.

Now, I can’t even count anymore.

The fear I feel upon waking is so vivid that after realizing again and again that it’s just a dream, I became afraid of falling asleep.

He turns his head.

Beside the sofa sits a white pill bottle.

In his hazy state, Hae-su reaches out toward it.

Nightmares.

And checking with his own eyes that barely any time has passed after waking.

The feeling that even after sleeping, it doesn’t feel like he slept at all.

These things have now become familiar.

“Hae-su.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“You look like a top student who’s loved by teachers, but you’re the worst at doing assignments.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“I understand. Are there too many assignments?”

The auditory rehabilitation sessions held twice a week always begin with a scolding on Thursdays.

Jae-young, who has been in charge of Hae-su’s auditory training since the beginning, knows that giving him assignments is meaningless—yet he’s one of the few who hasn’t given up yet.

On Tuesdays, he holds onto Hae-su, trains him, and gives assignments.

And then Thursday comes, when they meet again.

As always, Hae-su hasn’t done the assignment and lowers his head, watching Jae-young cautiously.

Today was no different.

Jae-young let out a small sigh where Hae-su couldn’t see.

Anyone could figure out his condition just by looking at his background information.

In fact, the current Hae-su showing up consistently for therapy alone is already impressive.

“No. I just forgot. I’m sorry.”

“Did your medication dosage increase?”

“…That’s part of it, but I don’t think it’s just that.”

His large eyes wander as if he has no excuse even if he had two mouths.

Facing Hae-su’s moist, cautious gaze, even Jae-young finds himself at a loss for words.

He had thought Hae-su was beautiful.

Jae-young, a strict therapist who always assigns tasks to clients, had first thought that this face might shake his professional beliefs.

And as expected, Hae-su often unintentionally puts him in difficult situations.

Staring straight at him.

Or lowering his gaze, looking remorseful.

Even in moments like this, when he didn’t do his assignment, Jae-young couldn’t bring himself to feel angry.

But the reason he could forgive him wasn’t just because of Hae-su’s face.

“The seasons really change quickly. When did it get this cold…?”

“You’re changing the subject. You must feel bad for not doing it again.”

The Choi Hae-su Jae-young knew was just an actor who disappeared for years after an accident.

Then one day, a familiar face walked into the therapy room.

Looking closer—it really was Choi Hae-su.

The same handsome face.

And then he appeared as Jae-young’s adult patient.

Diagnosed with hearing loss.

At first, the burden of being his therapist felt overwhelming.

“Ah, yes. I said something pointless again, didn’t I?”

“It wasn’t pointless. It really did get cold suddenly.”

But the Hae-su he met as a client was different from the one seen on TV or in movies.

Impulsive.

Often giving irrelevant answers.

Forgetting things easily.

And sometimes showing no emotional highs or lows at all.

Jae-young only fully understood after seeing the list of medications Hae-su was taking.

“Haha. That’s true. Time passes so quickly.”

Even though he feels the cold, why does he dress like that?

Jae-young wanted to ask, but didn’t.

Even though it’s already the change of seasons, Hae-su still wears only a loose shirt without a coat.

Jae-young stayed silent.

Would he go out like that even at night?

Wouldn’t he be cold?

Even a few hours in the cold wind could make him sick.

But it wouldn’t be strange—his condition wasn’t good.

“Next time, there’s really a penalty. A forehead flick or something. So make sure you do it.”

“Yes. I will.”

Most likely, Hae-su won’t do it next time either.

And honestly, Jae-young doesn’t expect him to become a diligent client.

Maybe it’s meddling, but he hopes for more than that.

“Hae-su, go home and get some sleep. You look like you haven’t slept.”

“Yes. Thank you for worrying.”

He just hopes that Hae-su sleeps well

And next time, comes wearing warm clothes.

That’s all.

Today’s session ended.

At least he didn’t miss it this week, so that’s something.

Truthfully, Hae-su barely remembers what he did during the 40-minute session.

But that’s nothing new.

He only keeps coming here to reassure the people around him.

And somehow, Jae-young has become one of those people.

Before going home, Hae-su considers meeting Director Yoon.

The way he hung up yesterday still bothers him.

He wanted to show that he’s doing fine—and return the things sent to him.

Bzzz—

Just then, his phone rings.

Hae-su stops walking the moment he sees the screen.

He stares at the caller’s name for a long time.

His feet feel rooted to the ground.

It’s a name he’s been waiting for more than any other.

He swallows hard and answers.

“Hello.”

[It’s me.]

Our Se-ha.

Even after the accident, Se-ha’s number never changed.

So it still appears under the name saved back when they were together.

Even that small detail brings back dozens of memories.

“Yes… Se-ha.”

[I heard from Do-yoon. That you received the wedding invitation.]

“…Yes.”

Every word takes effort to say.

His breathing grows heavier.

He can almost hear a faint chuckle from the other side.

It makes him want to act like he’s fine.

[I wanted to give it to you personally. To Choi Hae-su.]