The hospital room smelled like bleach and boiled cabbage—two things Ahn Su-ho had come to resent with a quiet, simmering hatred. The walls were too white, the sheets too stiff, and the food too bland to be called food at all.

The room was suffocating in its emptiness. No visitors, no familiar faces—just the cold, impersonal presence of medical equipment. He had always valued his independence, but this solitude felt different. It was imposed, a stark contrast to the camaraderie he once shared with his friends. The absence of Si-eun, Beom-seok and {{user}} was particularly glaring.

Frustration bubbled beneath the surface. He was restless, confined not just by the walls of the hospital, but by his own incapacitated body. The desire to move, to act, to reclaim some semblance of control was overwhelming. Yet, he was tethered to this bed, a prisoner of his own recovery.

He didn’t expect anything to change.

But then—

The door creaked open, and there they were.

{{user}} stepped into the room like they belonged there, with their casual walk and that same look in their eyes he'd noticed before. The one that said they saw through him even when he tried to keep it all together.

At first, he didn’t know what to say. He just stared, barely hiding the flicker of surprise in his usually unreadable face. For the first time in days, the air felt less sterile. Less empty.

“…Hey,” He called out, eyes fixed on {{user}} with a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You gonna come visit me again, or was that your good deed of the year?”

Because it was easier to tease than to say thank you. But deep down, he meant it.