Chapter 77: Blindfold Splint (3)

Part 5

“In the end, he legally proved he was part of the family. It was already documented, so no court was needed. It took a long time, going back and forth domestically and internationally, but he formally proved his blood tie to them,” Dr. Kang said.

“…Formally?” I asked.

“Naturally, his family wasn’t thrilled. And why would they be? A mysterious condition affecting barely 40 people worldwide, with no consistent symptoms. The evidence? A diagnosis from a foreign doctor they’d never met and a few photos taken after the change had already begun. Family-specific details? They could’ve been dug up somehow, for all they cared,” he explained.

Slurp. His coffee dwindled rapidly, the cup clinking with ice. A brittle, breaking sound.

My face stiffened as I vaguely wondered, What if it were me? A pointless hypothetical, yet an uneasy what if pushed me to imagine it. My parents, my brother, Sanghyeon, asking, “Who are you?” Waking up to no one recognizing me as Yoonseo, enduring endless self-verification, only to achieve a hollow formal acknowledgment, left with no one around…

“He lost all drive and will, to the point of doing nothing. I won’t say what choices he made—it’s just records, and I don’t know details. He only recently came to me, so we’ve barely met a few times,” Dr. Kang said.

“Wasn’t that something you shouldn’t share?” I asked.

“What’s the point now? Going to report me for leaking personal info?” he retorted.

I shook my head silently and sipped my tea. Choices, plural? How much despair does it take to choose to end your life? Is that something to pity so easily?

Unable to purely celebrate someone’s survival, I stared at my emptying cup, now just ice. I’d hoped hearing more would clarify things, but my mind felt messier.

“…How’s he doing now?” I asked.

“…In terms of lifestyle?” he replied.

Was this off-limits? He paused, popped a few half-melted ice cubes into his mouth, and crunched them. The grating sound lingered briefly.

“All that’s left in him is venomous obsession. He chose to live like that,” Dr. Kang said.

“…What?” I blinked.

“Exactly as I said. He chose to keep living,” he repeated.

My racing thoughts screeched to a halt. His reiterated words didn’t just stop me—they made something creak inside. Tormented enough to want to die, but unable to, so he lives with venom?

“…If he adapted well and is living strongly, isn’t that enough?” I asked.

“Huh? Yeah, my wording was off,” he admitted.

He fell silent, as if struggling for a better phrase. The shattered ice kept disappearing down his throat. The faint café music shifted, then neared its end. Finally, he nodded slightly, satisfied with an answer.

“He decided to live as he is, however it goes… does that convey it better?” he said.

“Like giving up on convincing others and going it alone?” I asked.

“Resignation and living however it goes are different. I might be saying too much, but…” he trailed off.

A burning thirst hit me. I sipped the diluted remnants of my tea and ice. Unfazed by my mood, Dr. Kang’s opened mouth fired off words relentlessly.

“Someone who accepts and resigns to their situation doesn’t rebel against the constraints around them. They huddle, crushed by the pressure, conforming to it,” he said.

“…That’s not what he’s doing, is it?” I asked.

“Living however it goes sounds passive, but think deeper—it’s incredibly active and bold. For example, dabbling in banned substances, publicly self-harming, causing disturbances with hired groups, or hurling insults at celebrities or officials,” he listed.

My uneasy eyes widened in shock.

“…What?” I gasped.

It sounded no different from suicide. Drugs? Public self-harm? What’s active or bold about that?

“He’s still alive, not in jail, which shows his boldness, doesn’t it?” Dr. Kang said.

“…I don’t understand what you’re saying,” I admitted.

“I told you—he’s from a well-off family, formally recognized as such,” he said.

I tilted my head, confused. His face showed clear displeasure.

“Connections and status come with means to protect them. Unless it’s major, they can bury it,” he explained.

“…Really?” I asked.

“Yes. And he’s using that to his advantage,” he said.

His clenched fist trembled slightly. Angry? At what?

“On paper, he’s family. His antics would draw public scorn, so they cover it up. It’s doable, but a hassle,” he continued.

“…No way,” I realized.

“Exactly. He’s destroying himself to take revenge—not quite revenge—on the family that won’t accept him,” he said.

His grip tightened visibly.

“He knows it’s futile but keeps breaking himself, living however it goes, as if testing how far he can go before he dies. He bites every outstretched hand, screaming they’ll never understand, dying day by day,” he said.

And then I understood why Dr. Kang was so angry.

“…This is risky to add, but I assure you, having met him, he won’t harm anyone unless they’re the target of his anger. He’ll lash out and push away, but I don’t think it’s sincere,” he said.

Can I decide this alone? The question flashed through my mind. What if I get dragged into something messy? Worry surged in my chest.

“…I don’t think you’d hold it against me, but I apologize for snapping earlier. I know how pathetic it is for a doctor to ask a patient for this. Still…” he trailed off.

“I’ll meet him,” I said.

After hearing this, knowing I might be the only one who could do it, I couldn’t be cold enough to refuse.

“…What?” he blinked.

“I’ll meet him. Can you arrange it at the hospital next weekend?” I asked.

His eyes, slow to process, curved into a faint smile. His bowed head hid it quickly, but…

“…Thank you, truly,” he said.

“I’ve caused you enough trouble too,” I replied with a small laugh.

He was probably smiling, I thought.