When You're Sick, You Get Weak
"Patient! Patient!"
Suyeon, swept up in the joy of seeing her, threw her arms around Yeoncheong. Feeling far worse than anyone realized, Yeoncheong couldn't even push her off—all she could do was flap her mouth wordlessly.
Nayun, weighed down with bags, bustled around in a panic, until a startled Hasol peeled Suyeon away and Seoha steadied the wobbly Yeoncheong on her feet.
"Are you okay?"
Yeoncheong's throat was so congested that speaking seemed impossible, so she gave a small nod instead.
Even on a weekday afternoon when hardly anyone was around, making a scene outside was just inconsiderate. Yeoncheong carefully stepped backward, wordlessly inviting them in.
Nayun, arms piled high with this and that, headed for the kitchen with Hasol, while Yeoncheong took Seoha's hand and made her way back to bed.
"I'm... I'm sorry..."
Suyeon tapped her index fingers together, watching Yeoncheong's face anxiously.
Yeoncheong waved her hands side to side. When Seoha moved to lay her back down, she stopped her, propped a pillow behind her lower back, and sat up against the headboard instead.
Her blue eyes drifted to the nightstand. A hand slipped out from under the blanket and tapped lightly at the smartphone resting there. Nothing happened.
I forgot to charge it yesterday.
The half-heard conversation from behind the door earlier, and her own track record from the past, made it easy to understand why Suyeon had reacted so emotionally.
"Oh, your phone was off..."
Seoha and Suyeon, who had been retracing Yeoncheong's every move, finally realized why they hadn't been able to reach her.
Meanwhile, Hasol—having refused to come empty-handed and hurriedly bought porridge, medicine, and sundries—looked around the kitchen. The sink was bone-dry, without a single drop of water. A suspicion crept over her, and she called out.
"Yeoncheong, have you not eaten anything since you got up?"
Seoha answered for her after confirming that Yeoncheong had nodded faintly.
"She hasn't."
"Thank goodness we bought the porridge, then."
Hasol got to work in the kitchen, while Nayun slipped into the spare room to hunt for a small tray table.
In the meantime, Suyeon was rummaging through a white plastic bag in the kitchen.
"We forgot something to drink. Cold water's probably not great for her, right?"
"Probably not. Is there an electric kettle? If not, we'll have to boil some water in a regular pot."
This was practically the first time any of Yeoncheong's friends had ever paid a sick visit to someone. Still, with four people in the house, they managed to pull it off with a fair amount of competence.
Yeoncheong watched her friends with half-lidded eyes.
They were still a touch on the loud side, admittedly, but she could feel the air changing—until just moments ago it had been desolate and empty.
"Yeoncheong, if you're worn out, you can lie back down."
Seoha wanted her flushed, feverish friend to rest comfortably. But maybe because it was a scene she so rarely got to see, one she was loath to let slip away, Yeoncheong gave her head a small shake.
"...Okay. Just give me a minute."
Her friends were bustling about—she couldn't just sit there, useless and alone. Seoha got up from her seat and went over to Hasol.
"Anything I can help with?"
"I'm fine here. Could you look for a tray and a spoon?"
Hasol and Seoha huddled together in front of the kitchen, preparing the porridge.
"Ah! Hot, hot!"
Suyeon mixed in cold water with the boiling water bit by bit, adjusting the temperature.
"Ugh... it's not here? Somebody help me look."
"Hey, whatever's in there, there can't be that much. If you can't see it, it doesn't exist. Just come out."
And there was Nayun, rummaging around for a desk that might or might not even exist, insisting she wanted to feed Yeoncheong in bed.
Yeoncheong knew she was a unique case, hard to compare with anyone else...
And she was hardly a stranger to the strange ecosystem of power struggles that existed between girls...
This is nice. So nice...
It hit her anew just how great a blessing it was to have friends this good around her.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, Yeoncheong watched her friends clatter and clunk through their preparations for a long while.
How wonderful it would be, if only she could show them a life like this.
She had squeezed her eyes shut, resolving not to think about it—but the faint image of her mother surfaced anyway, and Yeoncheong's eyes grew damp.
In case anyone might see, she carefully wiped away the tears clinging to the corners of her eyes.
Her friends set a cup of warm water on one side of the nightstand and placed the plastic tray of porridge across Yeoncheong's lap.
Eating something in bed—the old Yeoncheong would have recoiled at the very idea, but there was no choosing right now.
Perhaps someone had thought ahead and warmed it once in the microwave. Hasol lifted the lid off the steaming porridge and asked,
"Want me to feed you?"
Just how sick did she have to look for them to fuss over her like this? During those brief few minutes she'd spent in the bathroom, she deeply regretted not giving the mirror even a single glance.
She couldn't keep answering with nods forever. Yeoncheong reached out to the nightstand and picked up the cup.
A careful sip.
Worried it might be hot, she only took a light taste—but thanks to Suyeon's careful tempering with cold water, the temperature was just right.
She felt the water slide down her parched throat, and then her friend's kindness settled over it like a soft blanket.
"Ah... ah."
After testing her voice a few times, Yeoncheong decided she was good enough, and set the cup back down on the nightstand. Then, for the first time in ages, she gave her friends a proper voice.
"I'm fine. I can eat by myself."
She still sounded ill, no doubt about it, but it was no longer the kind of voice that pained the listener as much as the speaker.
The porridge looked scalding hot at a glance. Yeoncheong scraped only the surface layer, blowing on each spoonful as she took the first meal of her day.
It was already getting close to noon by then, so she bore the heat and kept eating.
She was just thinking how glad she was that her friends had thought to buy this, when Yeoncheong paused mid-bite and lifted her head.
"Aren't you guys going to eat anything?"
Curiously enough—
Her head still throbbed and her body still ached, but the moment her stomach had something in it, her capacity for normal thought was starting to come back online.
Worried she might get up, all four friends shook their heads at once, as if they'd rehearsed it.
"No, no, we're fine!"
Their assorted hairstyles swayed in perfect sync with their nodding, like a single choreographed dance. Yeoncheong covered her mouth and stifled a laugh, her other hand clutching her aching stomach as it heaved—don't make a sick girl laugh, after all.
After chuckling for a good long while, Yeoncheong finally cleaned out the rest of the porridge and sipped the warm water Suyeon had refilled for her.
Cradling the toasty cup in both hands, Yeoncheong's lips parted.
"...Thank you."
There was so much she wanted to say, but nothing said it better than this one small phrase, pulled up from somewhere deep in her heart.
Perhaps that word, instead, pricked at their consciences. Hasol scratched her head and looked vaguely off into the distance.
"Don't mention it. We didn't really do anything worth thanking."
Yeoncheong might know what caused her cold and body aches, but there was no way her friends didn't know too.
Once she understood why her friends were being so deferential, Yeoncheong regretted bringing it up.
It was just that admitting to Teacher Jisu that she'd caught a cold from playing around in the snow at her age was far too embarrassing...
And she hadn't wanted to say that in front of friends who'd come all this way to visit her.
She wanted to set the record straight, even now. She cleared her throat and gave her head a gentle shake.
"No, it really was my own fault. I got what was coming to me."
Except, well—here was the problem.
"No, we were way too harsh that day."
These kindhearted friends, who'd rushed over with armfuls of stuff just to check on her. The real issue was that they simply refused to let go of their guilt, insisting to the death that it was all their own fault.
"I messed up first, though. How is that on any of you?"
"It wasn't even on purpose."
"Well, for starters, you didn't take care of yourself properly—"
"..."
And so began yet another petty argument over who was more at fault.
Yeoncheong would say one thing, then Suyeon and Hasol would each fire back a line in turn. Nayun sighed at the tennis-rally-like back and forth.
"This isn't supposed to be my job..."
Raising both hands with an exasperated look, she—
Clap!
Snapped her hands together sharply to seize everyone's attention, and addressed the two of them.
"Hey, is winning against a sick girl really that important to you?"
Then she turned her head right around and clucked her lips at Yeoncheong too.
"And you, Ha Yeoncheong. You could just quietly accept an apology, you know. What's the harm? Doesn't your throat hurt?"
Having silenced all three mouths in an instant, Nayun shuddered dramatically.
"Ugh... doing something I never do gives me goosebumps."
Rubbing her arms, Nayun got up saying she was going to run to the bathroom, and Seoha, who had stayed quiet the entire time, finally moved.
Seoha's hand brushed Yeoncheong's bangs aside and pressed against her forehead, while her other hand touched her own.
As Yeoncheong blinked blearily at the sudden gesture, Seoha finished her diagnosis.
"Still burning up... Take some medicine and sleep. We'll head out for now."
There was plenty she wanted to say, but none of it was worth saying to a sick friend.
At Seoha's words, Yeoncheong touched her own forehead.
But how was a sick person supposed to accurately judge her own temperature? All she knew was that Seoha had said so, which somehow made her forehead feel even hotter than before.
Realizing the true purpose of their visit, Hasol sprang to her feet.
"Oh, right! We bought medicine and a bunch of other stuff for you."
Her friend headed to the kitchen and came back with the white bag that had been sitting there all this time.
The medicine they had at home must have been long past its shelf life, since it had done nothing—so she took the ones her friends had bought instead, and was then forcibly tucked into bed. Yeoncheong's lips parted.
"But... is this really necessary?"
"Is what?"
Leftover porridge in the fridge, medicine arranged within arm's reach—Suyeon was getting ready to leave, and came over to the bed.
Looking up at her friend from flat on her back felt strangely odd, so Yeoncheong propped herself up a little.
"No, it's just... I mean, I did complain that my bangs were getting in the way..."
Her hair was tangled from not being able to wash properly, and it was true that she'd grumbled about how her bangs kept tickling her feverish forehead, which was uncomfortable.
But still...
"I never asked for this."
A headband—Suyeon's or Nayun's, most likely—had swept Yeoncheong's bangs straight back, leaving her forehead fully, completely exposed.
In other words, the classic apple-on-top hairstyle.
Yeoncheong, who never showed her forehead under any circumstances, scratched at her head, awkward and embarrassed. Suyeon shook her head slowly at the sight of her.
So she really is sick, huh.
It was obvious, really—she'd been fussing only about her bangs, without even glancing at the part that actually mattered most.
Knowing how hard her friends—including Suyeon herself—had worked at dragging her gaze downward, she wanted to tease them mercilessly, but she decided to let it slide on account of the patient status.
Suyeon gave her a thumbs-up and eased her worries instead.
"It's fine. You look super cute."
"No, that's not the point."
Hit out of nowhere with a you're cute, Yeoncheong briefly lost her words.
"If it really bothers you, you can take it off."
"...No, it's fine."
If anything, it was actually the more comfortable option, so Yeoncheong decided to just leave it. It wasn't as if anyone would be around to see once her friends left anyway.
Hasol made one last trip to the bathroom and finished getting ready to go, and Nayun called for Suyeon.
"Suyeon, let's go."
"Yep, coming."
As Suyeon waved a light goodbye and moved away, the full view of the house naturally opened up before Yeoncheong's eyes.
The kitchen, cleaned up neatly after use, looked a little lonely, and the quiet that had returned to a home she'd only just been thinking was too noisy now seemed, if anything, to deepen the emptiness.
Was it just because it was winter? The house that had grown warm with her friends' visit was already turning cold again—before they'd even left.
Watching her friends huddled together putting on their shoes, then looking back at the suddenly hollow-feeling house, Yeoncheong said something she never, ever would have said under normal circumstances.
"Um... guys?"
"Hm?"
"Could you... maybe stay until I fall asleep?"
Somewhere, far in the future, when Yeoncheong looked back on this moment, she would surely pin it on the fever—claim her memory of it had simply burned away.
"...Huh?"
The friends locked eyes with one another, checking whether they'd heard her correctly.
Only then realizing what she'd just said, Yeoncheong scrambled to take it back.
"N-no, forget it. Ignore me. That just slipped out."
Apparently aware of how embarrassing it was—her face had gone red all the way through saying it.
Hasol and Nayun aside, could Seoha and Suyeon—two girls who adored her—possibly have refused?
Seoha and Suyeon took off their shoes and headed back to the bed, and Nayun and Hasol had no choice but to get comfortable and join in too.