Scene 1. Crack
Doctor Jang moved.
Before the sound of the pipe snapping could settle. Doctor Jang's hand caught Lee Kang's wrist. The wrist holding the syringe. The bone of Lee Kang's wrist was caught inside Doctor Jang's palm.
Lee Kang's eyes found Doctor Jang.
The candle wavered between the two of them. Doctor Jang's face came into view. Something had been peeled from Doctor Jang's face. What it was, Lee Kang did not know. Not the opium-cured dryness. Not the academic observation. What remained where they had been peeled away—was bare flesh.
"Let go."
Doctor Jang said.
Lee Kang's hand did not let go. Of the syringe. The needle's tip had stopped half a hand-span above Yeonhwa's arm. Doctor Jang's hand twisted Lee Kang's wrist. Lee Kang's arm bent sideways. The needle moved away from Yeonhwa's skin.
A sound came from Lee Kang's mouth.
Grrr.
A sound climbing from deep in the throat. Not a human sound.
Lee Kang's other hand struck Doctor Jang's chest.
Not a shove this time. A strike. Not a palm—a fist. Doctor Jang's body flew backward. His back struck the warehouse wall. The wall's wooden planks cracked. From Doctor Jang's mouth, a kkkh burst out. The sound of air being pressed from lungs.
Doctor Jang slid down the wall.
He did not sink to the floor. He slipped, then stopped. Folded in half. One hand braced against the wall. The other pressed to his chest.
Lee Kang approached.
The syringe still in his grip. Not toward Yeonhwa. Toward Doctor Jang. The candle was behind Lee Kang, so his face was a shadow. Only the amber burned inside the shadow.
Doctor Jang raised his head.
"You don't even know what's in it."
Doctor Jang said. Between coughs. Between severed breaths. The words came out in fragments.
"You didn't read the label. You don't know what's in it. You don't know the dose."
Lee Kang's feet stopped.
"You'd put that in her..."
Doctor Jang's voice had cracked. Not from being scorched by opium. Scorched by something else.
"Because it's medicine."
Lee Kang answered.
"It's medicine, isn't it. The doctor's medicine, so—"
"You sealed his mouth shut."
Doctor Jang cut him off.
Lee Kang's mouth closed.
"You shut him up." A cough burst from Doctor Jang. Whether blood was mixed in could not be seen in the dark. "Why did you shut him up. Why did you press his mouth closed."
Lee Kang did not answer.
"Because you didn't want to hear it."
Doctor Jang said.
"You sealed his mouth because he was saying something you didn't want to hear. And now you'll use his medicine? You shut his mouth and use his medicine? Refuse the diagnosis but steal the prescription?"
Doctor Jang's back left the wall. One step forward. Toward Lee Kang. His eyes were at an angle the candle could not reach, so to Lee Kang they looked like black pools.
"You know."
Doctor Jang said.
"Your hand knew."
The hand gripping the syringe shook, faintly.
"It was shaking." Doctor Jang took another step closer. "Your hand stopped before the needle could touch her. You couldn't push it in. Why couldn't you push it in?"
Lee Kang's teeth clenched.
Screee.
"Shut up."
"Because you know it isn't medicine—"
Lee Kang's hand caught Doctor Jang's throat.
Not the hand with the syringe. The empty hand. He seized Doctor Jang's throat and drove him against the wall. The back of Doctor Jang's head struck the wooden planks. A blunt sound. From Doctor Jang's mouth, a kuk leaked out.
Force entered Lee Kang's hand.
Doctor Jang's throat was thin inside his grip. Bone could be felt. A sensation close to touching Yeonhwa's vertebrae. Bone immediately beneath flesh. Doctor Jang had wasted away too.
Lee Kang's brain received the sensation.
Received it, discarded it.
Doctor Jang's hands did not claw at Lee Kang's arm. He did not thrash. Doctor Jang's hand rose to rest on Lee Kang's wrist. The wrist of the hand at his throat. Not gripping. Resting.
Doctor Jang's mouth opened.
His airway was closed, so the words did not come out properly. Through the cracked sound of wind, syllables wedged themselves through.
"That... hand..."
Doctor Jang's eyes went to Lee Kang's hand with the syringe.
Lee Kang's gaze followed.
The right hand holding the syringe. Shaking. Still. The left hand throttling Doctor Jang's throat was solid as rock, but the right hand with the syringe was trembling like a leaf.
Lee Kang looked at that hand.
Looked.
His hand fell from Doctor Jang's throat.
Not fell. Released. His fingers opened one at a time. From Doctor Jang's throat. Doctor Jang slid down the wall. This time all the way to the floor. He sank into a sitting collapse. A coughing fit burst. Hack hack hack. Spit dropped onto the floor.
Lee Kang took one step back.
He looked down at the hand holding the syringe.
The tremor did not stop.
His mouth opened.
"You make the medicine."
Doctor Jang's coughing stopped.
"You make it, don't you." Lee Kang said. His voice was flat. Not the voice that had been snarling like a beast moments ago. The voice of another person entirely. "The yellow medicine. Make that. If I give her that, she gets better."
Doctor Jang, still seated on the floor, looked up at Lee Kang.
Doctor Jang's mouth did not open.
Did not open.
Scene 2. The Hand
The hand holding the syringe lowered slowly.
The glass of the syringe shone under the candlelight. The medicine left inside had halved. A drop beaded at the tip of the needle and fell onto the dirt floor.
Lee Kang's gaze followed the drop.
The dirt drank the medicine. Clear liquid seeped into the black earth and vanished. A smell rose. Alcohol tangled with something chemical. Lee Kang's nose caught it. Not lilac.
His hand released the syringe.
Not released—dropped. Strength drained from the fingers. The syringe fell onto the dirt. The glass cracked. Did not shatter. The cracked syringe rolled half a turn on the dirt and stopped.
Lee Kang looked down at the syringe.
Looked for a long time.
Inside his chest, something was unwinding. What had been hammering wildly moments ago was cooling. Cooling was the right word. Like turning off the heat under boiling water. The bubbles settled. The surface flattened. It was going quiet.
That quiet translated, inside Lee Kang's brain, into something else.
It's still all right.
His gaze went to Doctor Jang.
Doctor Jang sat slumped against the wall. He was holding his throat. The throat where Lee Kang's handprint must still have been. The coughing had stopped. Doctor Jang's eyes were watching Lee Kang.
Lee Kang tried to read those eyes.
He could not. Something had always floated in Doctor Jang's eyes. The academic observation he wore picking up a pen. The dry record of one inspecting a culture medium. All of it had been peeled away. What remained was bedrock. What had been lying at the bottom of Doctor Jang's eyes all along. Something Lee Kang had never once seen.
He saw it and did not recognize it.
Because he did not recognize it, he discarded it.
"Make the medicine."
Lee Kang said. To Doctor Jang.
"The yellow one. There were materials in the safe house. Bring them here. You can make it."
Doctor Jang's mouth did not open.
"Whatever else you need, I'll bring it."
Lee Kang's voice was calm. Eerily calm. The hand that had been throttling Doctor Jang's throat was still trembling, but not a strand of unsteadiness lived in the voice. The breathing of a beast laying out its route before a hunt.
Doctor Jang took his hand from his throat.
The broken half of the empty pipe lay on the dirt floor. Doctor Jang's gaze grazed across the pipe shard once.
His mouth opened.
Opened, and closed.
Opened, and closed.
On the third try, sound came out.
"...All right."
Two syllables.
Scene 3. Disposal
The doctor was crawling.
While Lee Kang had been throttling Doctor Jang. Behind Lee Kang's back. He had been digging his fingernails into the dirt and crawling. Toward the warehouse door. Smothering sound. Swallowing breath.
Three hand-spans remained to the door.
The doctor's hand was about to reach the gap beneath it.
Footsteps came from behind.
Bare feet. No sound on the dirt. Approached without sound. When a shadow fell across the doctor's nape, his body locked.
Lee Kang stood behind the doctor.
Not stood. Looked down.
The doctor turned. Twisted his head. In the dark, two points of amber were looking down at him. The doctor's mouth opened. A scream rose.
Lee Kang's foot pressed down on the doctor's back.
The scream was crushed between his spine and the dirt. The sound of air pressing out of his lungs. A screee. Lee Kang's bare foot rested on the doctor's vertebrae. He bore his weight down.
The doctor's hand clawed at the dirt. His fingernails dug in.
There was nothing on Lee Kang's face.
No expression. Not the beast's face that had been baring its teeth moments ago, throttling Doctor Jang. Not the face that had whispered tenderly to Yeonhwa. A face with nothing. He was looking down at the doctor on the floor with the eyes one uses to look at objects.
Lee Kang bent at the waist.
Took the back of the doctor's head. Lifted it. Drove it into the dirt.
A blunt sound.
The doctor's body spasmed once.
Stopped.
Lee Kang's hand came away. He checked the breath. There. Thin breath. Unconscious.
Lee Kang straightened.
He stepped over the doctor's body toward the door. Dragged the torn-off door panel back and propped it against the frame. Sealed the gap. The pre-dawn air outside was cut off.
He returned.
The candle was wavering. Doctor Jang sat against the wall in his corner, eyes closed. Whether closed or open, the dark made it impossible to tell.
Lee Kang did not look at Doctor Jang. Did not look at the doctor.
He looked at Yeonhwa.
Scene 4. Lullaby
Lee Kang knelt beside Yeonhwa.
Yeonhwa lay on the coat. Eyes closed. Breath still present. To confirm that it was still present, his fingertip went beneath her nose. A faint movement of air met his fingertip. Not warm air. Cold air.
The corner of Lee Kang's mouth eased.
Eased was the right word. The way tension eases. The way a knot eases. Every muscle in the face that had been grinding teeth and throttling Doctor Jang and driving the doctor's head into the dirt released all at once.
Lee Kang lay down beside Yeonhwa.
On the coat. To her left. He stretched out his left arm beneath her head. Wrapped her shoulder with his right arm. Drew her in. Yeonhwa's head came to rest on his bare chest.
Cold.
When Yeonhwa's forehead met Lee Kang's collarbone, his flesh flinched. Like ice had touched him. Yeonhwa's hair brushed against the burn-cooked right shoulder. Hair scraped across the place where skin had been stripped away. The sensation of a thin fire catching.
His teeth clenched, then released.
As they released, the corner of his mouth lifted.
A scent rose from Yeonhwa's hair.
The sewer stench had faded. It had dried. As it dried, the surface of the reek had blown away. Beneath it—lilac rose. Stronger than last night. Last night it had only grazed the tip of his nose. Now it was filling his nose. Spreading inside his head.
Lee Kang's eyes closed.
The silver bell rang in the distance.
Very far. Beyond the pre-dawn darkness outside the warehouse. Where moonlight could not reach. A clear sound seeped into his ears. Once. Twice.
His arms drew Yeonhwa deeper into his embrace.
The burn wept. The shoulder where the sutures had ruptured wept. The graze along his side wept. The weeping sank beneath the lilac. Not vanished—buried. The fragrance had drawn a blanket over the pain.
"It's all right."
Lee Kang whispered.
Into the crown of Yeonhwa's head. Lips touching her hair.
"He's going to make the medicine. Doctor Jang."
Not a lie. Because Doctor Jang had said all right. Lee Kang's brain received those two syllables as a promise.
"So hold on a little."
His eyes closed. Inside the lilac. Inside the sound of the silver bell. A blood-soaked monster cradled a girl growing cold as ice.
A smile remained at the corner of his mouth.
A tender smile.
A coldly tender smile.
The candle wavered once, large, and shrank.