Junhoo
I spent the next twenty minutes hoping he wouldn't wake up.
And hoping he would.
It was a strange feeling.
Contradictory.
Confusing.
Part of me wanted him to open his eyes immediately so I could know he was okay.
The other part wanted him to sleep forever.
Not because I wished him harm.
Because the moment he woke up, I would have to face a question I wasn't ready to answer.
What if he remembered me?
The thought made my stomach twist.
I wasn't the same person anymore.
The student he'd helped in the library was gone.
In his place stood someone who was constantly disappointing his family.
Someone whose grades kept falling.
Someone who still felt lost despite being old enough to have figured life out by now.
I didn't want him to see that version of me.
Not after everything he represented.
Not after spending years remembering him as one of the few genuinely good things in my life.
So I sat quietly.
And waited.
---
Eventually, he stirred.
A small movement.
Then another.
His eyebrows twitched slightly.
Slowly, his eyes opened.
For a moment, he looked confused.
Disoriented.
His gaze moved around the room.
The ceiling.
The walls.
The monitor beside the bed.
Then finally, it landed on me.
I held my breath.
Waiting.
Watching.
Hoping.
Terrified.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Trying to place me.
Trying to remember.
A few seconds passed.
Then I knew.
He didn't recognize me.
The realization hit harder than I expected.
Relief flooded through me immediately.
Followed by something that felt suspiciously like disappointment.
After all those years...
After carrying his words with me for so long...
I was just a stranger.
---
"Hello."
His voice sounded rough.
Sleepy.
A little embarrassed.
"My name is Kim Sok-joo."
I stared.
For a second, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.
Of course he introduced himself.
Of course he did.
He looked away awkwardly.
"Sorry."
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"I'm not really sure what people are supposed to say in situations like this."
Despite everything, I laughed softly.
The sound seemed to relax him a little.
"Just continue."
The words came out gentler than I intended.
---
He took a breath.
Then looked at me properly.
"I wasn't trying to hurt myself."
The statement caught me off guard.
"What?"
His expression turned serious.
"I want you to know that."
A shadow passed through his eyes.
"My head was just somewhere else."
The way he said it made my chest tighten.
Because I knew exactly what that sounded like.
The exhaustion.
The heaviness.
The feeling of carrying too much for too long.
I'd seen it on the street before the accident.
Now I heard it in his voice too.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he smiled faintly.
"And thank you."
The words were quiet.
Sincere.
"For saving me."
I looked away.
Suddenly uncomfortable.
Not because I regretted helping him.
Because hearing him thank me felt strange.
He'd already done more for me years ago than he would ever realize.
If anything, I still owed him.
---
A brief silence settled between us.
Comfortable.
Awkward.
A little bit of both.
Then Sok-joo glanced toward the window.
"You probably have somewhere else to be."
I almost told him the truth.
That I'd been sitting there for hours.
That I hadn't left because I wanted to make sure he woke up safely.
That seeing him again felt unreal.
Instead, I simply shrugged.
"Maybe."
He laughed softly.
Then winced immediately.
Apparently laughing with a concussion wasn't recommended.
Good to know.
---
The room grew quiet again.
Neither of us seemed eager to break the silence.
Because once the conversation ended, so would this moment.
And somehow, I wasn't ready for that.
Not yet.
But staying wasn't an option either.
Not if I wanted to keep pretending to be a stranger.
Eventually, I stood.
"I should probably go."
The words felt heavier than they should have.
Sok-joo nodded.
"Yeah."
He hesitated.
Then smiled.
A small smile.
The same smile I remembered from university.
The one that always made people feel comfortable.
"Thank you."
There it was again.
That ridiculous warmth in my chest.
I shoved my hands into my pockets.
Trying to ignore it.
"You're welcome."
---
I walked toward the door.
One step.
Then another.
Almost there.
Almost free.
Then I stopped.
My hand rested on the doorknob.
Part of me wanted to turn around.
To tell him everything.
To remind him about the library.
The notes.
The afternoons we crossed paths on campus.
The words he'd forgotten but I'd carried for years.
I almost did it.
Almost.
But fear won.
Fear usually does.
So I opened the door.
And stepped into the hallway.
Behind me, Sok-joo remained in the hospital room.
Believing he had just met a stranger.
Maybe that was for the best.
Maybe some things were safer left unsaid.
Because if Kim Sok-joo ever discovered how much he meant to me...
I wasn't sure either of us would know what to do with that.