HANEUL'S mind felt sluggish, as if wrapped in layers of cotton. A deep tiredness settled into his bones, making even breathing feel heavy. His thoughts came slowly, drifting in and out before he could grasp them. A dull ache pulsed at the back of his neck, spreading warmth through his body. His throat was dry, his stomach hollow. Unease lingered beneath the fog, something he couldn't really explain. He pulled himself toward the surface, forcing his mind to wake up. Then he slowly opened his eyes.
The ceiling came into focus first. Bright light pressed against his eyes from the side, making him blink. The room smelled clean and still. He blinked again, then slowly turned his head. His mother sat in a chair beside his hospital bed. Her head was tilted slightly to the side, her chin dipping low as if she were fighting to stay awake. Her eyes were half closed. She looked as if she had been sitting there for a long time.
