Jin watched in silence as his personal physician scribbled furiously in her notebook. She called it a “chart.”
Every time she pressed that strange new device Louis had invented against his chest and listened to his breathing, Astrid would let out a small, involuntary “Oh no.” Today was no exception.
The situation was almost laughable. Even without Jin’s sharp mind, anyone could tell his condition was worsening day by day. Astrid had absolutely no talent for hiding her emotions.
And above all, he himself felt it bone-deep. With each passing day, drawing breath grew more difficult.
Yet Astrid always lied. She would insist his condition was neither improving nor deteriorating. She knew perfectly well that he would see through the falsehood—and still she told it. A white lie born of her own kind of care.
Jin leaned languidly against the bedpost, watching her. The mask covered half her face, making it impossible to read her expression completely, but observing her was endlessly entertaining.
She seemed to be writing invisible words in the air with her finger, then suddenly clapped her hands together with an “Ah!” Jin’s lips curved into a faint smile as he regarded her with genuine curiosity.
Whatever idea had struck her, she dashed out of the room without so much as a goodbye. Utterly incomprehensible behavior. What on earth went on inside that head of hers?
*She really is the most interesting person.*
The knowledge she possessed seemed to lie far beyond anything Jin could grasp. He could never predict what she might think next.
And yet, when it came to concealing emotion, she was hopelessly inept—every feeling shone clear in her eyes. That contradiction alone made her fascinating.
To Jin, Astrid Ober felt like an unsolved puzzle.
At first, yes—it had been mere curiosity. But lately… he found himself increasingly distracted by the lavender scent that drifted from her body, her hair. He reached out instinctively, as though he might catch the fading fragrance in his hand.
It slipped away, dissolving into nothing. Jin gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh and lay back down. Pointless gesture.
“Jin.”
Richard’s voice. Jin, who had been about to close his eyes, opened them again and propped himself up against the post once more.
“Richard. What is it?”
Even through the mask, he could see how unusually bright his friend’s expression was. It had been nearly two months since he’d last seen Richard’s uncovered face.
“Your color looks much better, Jin. It seems Doctor Ober really knows what she’s doing.”
Richard said it cheerfully.
Yes… on the surface, it appeared that way. To everyone else, Jin’s condition seemed to improve steadily after Astrid became his physician. The frequency of his hemoptysis had decreased, too…
But there was a secret only Jin and Astrid shared. Outwardly he might look better, yet in truth his state was deteriorating—moment by moment, even now.
“…Yeah. She’s an astonishing woman. She knows I’m going to die soon, yet she refuses to give up. This is the first time I’ve ever had a doctor fight so hard for me.”
When Jin offered that hollow smile, a tremor passed through Richard’s eyes. He still hadn’t given up on Jin. He mustn’t be allowed to hope. The higher the hope, the more crushing the despair would be.
“Jin, I—”
Moisture gathered in Richard’s voice. Jin finished the sentence his friend had uttered a hundred times before.
“You told me not to say weak things. I know, Richard.”
Jin smiled weakly. Sorrow pooled in Richard’s gaze. His friend was foolishly upright, utterly incapable of hiding himself.
Once Jin was gone, Richard would have to lead the Liberators…
*How can I close my eyes in peace when you’re like this, Richard?*
Jin swallowed the words he could never speak aloud, grateful that his friend was so poor at reading other people’s hearts.
They spent a long while discussing the future of the Liberators—until a knock sounded at the door. No one was supposed to come. Jin flicked his eyes toward the door; Richard understood and opened it.
“Doctor Ober, what brings you—”
Standing in the doorway was Astrid Ober, cheeks flushed, breathing hard as though she had sprinted the whole way. Her face was alight with joy.
“Ah—mask.”
She hurriedly pulled one on. It had been so long since Jin had seen anyone’s bare face. In a strange way, it felt lonely—everyone always hid half their expression when they faced him.
“I thought of a good treatment method, Richard.”
Astrid spoke excitedly. Jin pricked up his ears to listen to their conversation. A good treatment?
“Please put a bed in one of the greenhouses. And let Jin spend his days there.”
Richard clearly didn’t follow at first. Jin didn’t quite understand either, this time.
“Um… so, during the day, plants release substances that are helpful for Jin’s illness. Being in the greenhouse should make at least a little difference.”
A greenhouse… It had been a very long time since Jin had been confined to this room. It was a prison without bars. Richard still seemed hesitant after hearing the explanation, but to Jin, anywhere other than here sounded wonderful.
“Richard, do it. I’d like to see a greenhouse again after so long.”
★
Moving Jin to the greenhouse proved far more time-consuming than expected. The original greenhouse was too large and difficult to manage, so they had chosen a smaller empty one nearby and planted it anew.
I had pored over the *Great Dictionary of Medicinal Herbs* and gathered every single plant even remotely beneficial for respiratory conditions.
Borage with its star-shaped purple flowers, anise with tiny white blooms arranged like fans. Beyond those, there was the bellflower supposedly imported from the distant eastern lands across the sea, and the intensely sweet honey herb brought from the far western continent of Okasium.
Richard’s wealth was no exaggeration; he effortlessly procured rare flowers that grew on other continents.
Along with all the new greenhouse plants, we had to install Jin’s bed, the humidifier, and the emergency air purifier Louis had rushed to complete. Time flew.
“Scrub there harder. You need to wipe it again—several times.”
I was in the greenhouse again today, overseeing Jin’s “move.” The canopy bed had just been assembled, and people were disinfecting the posts with alcohol.
“Doctor Ober.”
At Richard’s voice I turned. He had arrived at some point and was leaning against the wall, watching me.
“You’re always so particular about cleaning.”
Today, once again, I couldn’t help feeling like a germaphobe. No—no, it wasn’t my fault; it was because Jin was so fragile…
“Dust is lethal for someone with a respiratory condition. We have to clean thoroughly.”
I used visible dirt as an excuse instead of invisible viruses and bacteria. The result of two months of racking my brain.
“I see. Ah—Doctor Ober, the examination room is fully prepared. Would you like to take a look?”
The examination room had been my request to Richard. Besides Jin, quite a few people came for treatment—wounded from skirmishes or accidents during underground excavations. Treating them in my bedroom had grown increasingly inconvenient.
“Sure.”
The new exam room was directly opposite the greenhouse and laboratory. Perfect location. Now I could—well, not exploit—collaborate more intensively with Rick and Louis.
Three simple cots, a bookshelf for patient charts, shelves stocked with various medicines I’d wrung out of Rick. Excellent.
“Since you arrived, Doctor, far fewer patients have suffered festering wounds or prolonged pain. Recovery is much faster too. We’re truly grateful.”
Richard’s words made me fidget and stare at the floor in embarrassment. All I’d done was enforce strict hygiene—nothing worth this much praise.
Come to think of it, Richard hadn’t liked me much at first. Our initial meeting had been anything but pleasant. I could still vividly recall the barrel of his gun pointed at my head…
But lately his attitude toward me had softened, just a little.
“Speaking of which—I heard the wheelchair you requested for Jin is finished. That’s what it’s called, right? Wheelchair?”
I brightened at Richard’s words while looking around the room with satisfaction. The distance between the greenhouse and Jin’s bedroom was considerable; if he tried to walk it on his own strength, the worst could happen.
That was why I’d shown Louis a sketch and asked him to build one.
“The greenhouse is ready, the wheelchair is ready. Shall we go fetch Jin now?”
At my eager suggestion, a small, rare smile touched Richard’s usually stoic face.
“Let’s. You go first, Doctor Ober.”
We left the exam room and stepped into the laboratory directly across the hall. There was Rick—sitting in the wheelchair—while Louis pushed him.
“Ah, Doctor Ober!”
Louis greeted me with a beaming smile.
…What was this scene?
I blinked at the two of them.
“Sister Louis said she needed to test stability, so I sat in it. I know it’s bad manners to sit in the Leader’s seat before he does, but…”
Rick’s ears flushed red as he made excuses.
Ugh—stop being embarrassed. Too cute.
“Rick weighs more than the Leader, so if it holds him safely, it should be fine for the Leader too.”
Louis explained brightly. Rick sprang up from the chair as if to prove he had no ulterior motive.
“Are you going to bring the Leader now?”
Louis asked, voice brimming with anticipation. She seemed thrilled at the thought of her creation being used by Jin.
“That’s the plan. Want to come along?”
Richard said. Perhaps because of their long history, the normally gruff gray lion’s face looked noticeably softer when he spoke to Louis.
“Really? It’s been so long since I’ve seen the Leader.”
Both Louis and Rick clearly wanted to see him. Having been taught by Jin, it was only natural they worried about their bedridden mentor(?).
“Fine. Both of you come.”
And so Richard, I, and Jin’s two former pupils headed together toward his bedroom.
Thinking about it now, I felt a twinge of worry. Since Jin had taken to his bed, almost no one except Richard and a select few had seen him. So much time had passed…
He looked somewhat better than the skeletal figure I’d first encountered, but Jin still resembled a candle flickering in the wind—on the verge of going out at any moment.
If the people of the underground city saw him like that… they would all grow anxious. Was this really okay?
But the moment we arrived at Jin’s room, I realized my worry had been needless. Richard had prepared everything perfectly.
He draped Jin in a warm woolen robe and fitted the mask so carefully that his thin frame was completely hidden. Watching Richard lift him effortlessly into the wheelchair, I thought—maybe my own protectiveness wasn’t over the top after all.
And yet… seeing Jin seated in the wheelchair like this gave me the strangest sense of déjà vu.
*…Why does this look exactly like a chaebol chairman being released on medical parole after questioning at the prosecutors’ office?*
I couldn’t help laughing inwardly. A full-on sick-leave tycoon release. If we just added sunglasses, he’d be the picture-perfect conglomerate boss. Should I ask Louis to make a pair?
But apparently I was the only one who found the bizarre image amusing. Rick and Louis gazed at their old teacher—whose pallor was still painfully obvious—with visible heartache.
“Louis, Rick. It’s been a while.”
Jin greeted them. His voice had always been soft; muffled by the mask, it sounded as though it came from ten meters away. That frail sound must have struck their hearts even harder.
Louis’s eyes seemed to redden. I quickly pushed the wheelchair forward so Jin wouldn’t see, then shot her a frown. Wipe your tears. Our sea-squish will get hurt.
Fortunately Louis understood without words and hastily dabbed at her eyes. Good—she wasn’t completely oblivious.
“Shall we go, then?”
*Jin, you little baby.* I muttered the words silently inside my mouth, never to be spoken aloud.
At that moment Richard took hold of the wheelchair handles.
“I’ll push, Doctor Ober.”
Jin might be thin, but he was still an adult man—and the chair added weight. I’d already been finding it a bit taxing, so I gladly relinquished the handles.
Richard seemed eager to get Jin to the greenhouse as quickly as possible. He began pushing with brisk, efficient strides.
