affected Halmeoni.” His words became thick in his throat, but he still pushed them out. “She supported me and worried about me. And I didn’t do anything but punish her for it by never living up to what she wanted for me, just like you.”
His anger clogged his chest, and he gasped to pull in air. It felt like he was breathing mud. Leaning over, he tried to clear his throat. A fog rolled over his vision.
“Jihoon!” his mother shouted. “Jihoon-ah, answer me.”
He couldn’t, not even to tell her to leave him alone. He toppled over as his trembling legs gave out.
“Someone call a doctor. Help! My son can’t breathe!”
And with his mother’s cries ringing in his head, he passed out.
67
JIHOON WOKE SLOWLY to murmured voices.
The alcohol smell of disinfectant filled his nostrils, and he knew he was in the hospital.
“ . . . must have been upset, it’s understandable with his halmeoni’s funeral, but this is the worst attack I’ve seen yet.” Jihoon almost didn’t recognize Dr. Choi’s voice. The neurologist must have thought it important to attend directly to Jihoon’s bedside.
“What are you trying to say about my son?” Jihoon’s mother asked. My son. His brain and heart latched on to the phrase.
“I didn’t think he would deteriorate so quickly. There is nothing wrong with him physically, but tests show his heart continues to get weaker. If this continues, it could be fatal.” The doctor didn’t mince words. Any other time Jihoon would have appreciated that.
When Dr. Choi left, Jihoon glanced at his mother. She stared at the door, hands clutched to her chest.
He wanted so badly to call out to her like he would have when he was three. Would she come to him? Would she comfort him? And would it only be out of pity because he was dying? The thought made it hard to breathe. Dying. He was dying. He blinked away tears before he spoke.
“You must be relieved to rid yourself of a burdensome son.” His voice sounded like the croak of a frog.
His mother spun around, her eyes wide as she realized he was awake. “Jihoon-ah.”
“Why didn’t you come before?” he asked, his voice a quiet plea. “Why did Halmeoni have to die before you came? You should have known I needed you. You’re my mother.”
“Jihoon-ah.” His name was a sob on her lip. Her grief should have bolstered him. Finally, proof that she cared and all he had to do was die. “I’m so sorry.”
“I just wanted you to be there for me,” Jihoon said. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” His body shook with tears. He was too weak to hold them back anymore.
His mother came to him now, her arms warm as they held him. And he finally felt his pride dissolve. He held tight to his mother for the first time since he was a little boy.
* * *
• • •
When Jihoon blinked his eyes open again, he didn’t know how much time had passed. Hours or days.
Miyoung’s face came into focus, and he sat up to the sound of beeping machines and humidifier steam. He let himself fall back against the pillows. The mere act of sitting up made him short of breath.
“How are you feeling?” Miyoung asked.
He didn’t reply, just stared as she adjusted his blankets, fluffed his pillow.
“Your mother stepped out, but she’s coming back.” Miyoung spoke quickly, as if to fill the silence.
“You should feed,” he said.
“What?”
He took her hand between his. “You should feed.”
She shook her head. “We don’t know how that could affect you. And after this episode, it’s obvious you’re too weak. I won’t risk it.”
“If you don’t, you’ll die.”
“I don’t care about that.”
“Wouldn’t it be better that at least one of us lives?” Jihoon asked.
“No,” Miyoung said emphatically.
“Don’t you get it?” Jihoon asked, his monitors beeping a warning of a rising heart rate. “I don’t want to live anymore. My halmeoni is dead because of me, and my body is giving out anyway. Just feed. Don’t be a martyr for me when I don’t want one.”
“We’ll figure out another solution.”
“You said it yourself. You’re too used to having all the time in the world. But it’s not something you can spend in limitless amounts anymore.”
“Since it’s mine to spend, I’ll do with it what I want,” Miyoung snapped.
“If you get the bead, you can live forever. Why would you throw that away?”
“I can only live if I kill others. I won’t. Not anymore.”
“What does an immortal gumiho care about us mere mortals,”