Chapter Ten

Jae-Jung's mind reeled as the nurse's words sank in.

A year. He had been gone for an entire year.

The weight of it pressed down on him, but his thoughts refused to linger on the lost time. Instead, they raced back to that woman — the night on the slopes, her icy-blue eyes filled with determination and fear, the chaos that had to have unfolded afterwards but couldn't be recalled by him.

Had she been safe all this time? What had happened in his absence?

His voice was hoarse as he spoke, his throat dry from disuse. »Where is she?« he rasped, his amber eyes locking onto the nurse with an intensity that made her pause.

»Who?« she asked gently, her brow furrowing. A name echoing in his mind repeatedly.

»Hye-Jin,« he responded matter-of-factly, the name slipping from his lips like a lifeline. »Cho Hye-Jin. Is she okay?«

The nurse hesitated, her expression softening. »I'm sorry, sir. I don't have that information. You've been under intensive care for months. I can check with the staff if you'd like.«

Jae-Jung nodded faintly, his body sinking back into the pillows as exhaustion overtook him. But his mind refused to rest. He needed answers. He needed to know what had happened to her. What happened to himself that night and why he couldn't remember a thing.

The next few days passed in a blur for Jae-Jung. He drifted in and out of consciousness, his body slowly regaining strength, but his mind remained a fragmented maze. The nurses and doctors came and went, their reassurances about his recovery falling on deaf ears. All he could think about was Hye-Jin — her name a beacon in the fog of his missing memories.

Every now and then, flashes of the night would pierce through the haze: the gravel crunching underfoot, the sharp scent of cherry blossoms in the air, her voice — firm yet trembling, calling out into the chaos.

But the moments were fleeting, disjointed. He couldn't piece them together.

Desperate for clarity, Jae-Jung began asking questions. About the night, about Hye-Jin, about why he was in the hospital. But the staff's answers were vague at best, their understanding of his situation limited.

One day, when the nurse he'd first spoken to entered to check on him, he couldn't hold back. »Did you find anything about her?"« he asked, his voice stronger now but still carrying an edge of desperation.

The nurse hesitated, fiddling with her clipboard. »We don't have much, but there's a note in your file from the night you were brought in. It says you were pulled from the bottom of a slope, after a struggle with another man, who sadly passed away. The police took everyones information, but... I'm sorry, I don't know anything else about her.«

»Do you know wo I am?"« Jae-Jung pressed.

The nurse hesitated, then nodded. »Yes. I'll get the details for you.«

A knock on the door interrupted them, another nurse peeked inside the room. »There are visitors - Family. Shall I let them in?« The first nurse glanced at Jae-Jung, a questioning look on her face.

»Well, it seems I won't need to get the file for now, you can get all the informations you want from your family- first hand. Do you want to give it a try?«

Jae-Jung's mind churned as the nurse's words echoed in the sterile room. His family? He didn't remember them. The notion of sitting face-to-face with strangers who supposedly held answers about his life felt surreal, almost dissonant. But as another knock broke the silence, and the same nurse from before stepped into the room to announce the visitors, curiosity outweighed his uncertainty.

»Let them in,« Jae-Jung said, his voice gravelly, tinged with hesitance. It felt like the only logical step forward, even if the path was shrouded in unfamiliarity.

The door swung open, and one by one, they entered.

First, he decided, came his mother — a woman with delicate features and a somber expression, her eyes brimming with emotions that were clearly decades in the making. She approached cautiously, her movements deliberate, as though she feared her son might shatter at the sight of her.

He could see how much she must have missed him- how much love she must hold for her son.

Behind her a tall man entered, with an expression that barely concealed his nervous energy, something that- even though he couldn't really remember him- must have been out of character for him. He moved to stand beside the mother, his sharp gaze flickering between Jae-Jung and the wires that bound him to the bed.

Right at the man's heels followed a young boy barely ten years old. His gaze strongly fixated on Jae-Jung, boring into him almost. Each with their own air of familiarity: the elder mild and stable, with a quiet strength emanating from him, and the younger restless, his posture betraying the impatience he seemed to carry like a shadow.

And then entered Ji-Soo. A woman he didn't remember- but his body did.

Her presence intense and calculated, her dirty yellow eyes scanning Jae-Jung with a ferocity that made his breath hitch. Something about her struck a chord deep within him — a burning feeling he couldn't exactly explain. It wasn't recognition exactly, but a raw, visceral reaction: disdain.

The kind of instinctive aversion that rises unbidden from somewhere primal.

They gathered around his bedside, an awkward silence filling the air before his mother spoke, her voice trembling slightly. »Jae-Jung... you've been unconscious for so long. It feels like a miracle to see you awake again.«

He stared at her, his amber eyes blank. »I don't remember you,« he said flatly, the words cutting through the tension like a blade. »In fact, I don't remember any of you.«

Her breath hitched, but she steadied herself. »That's okay, honey. We're here to help you. To remind you.«

The boy chimed in, his voice flat, just as matter-of-factly as Jae-Jung's was only moments ago. »You're Chung Jae-Jung. You're 26 years old. I'm your younger brother, Jae-Seong.« He turned around, slowly pointing at each person he introduced, »This is Mother, and our big brother, Dae-Seong. You work in logistics, managing operations for Chung Holdings and dealing with clients. You've always been sharp — focused. We've missed you a lot." While his voice was flat and monotonous, Jae-Jung could pick up his sincerity within.

Jae-Jung's gaze flickered to each of them, but the words felt distant, detached. The facts didn't stir anything within him, no spark of recognition or connection.

His elder brother stepped closer, his tone firm but warm. »You were in an accident. A year ago. You were trying to protect someone — a woman. There was a man, Kim Joon-Ho, who attacked her, and... you fought him. You fell down the slope together. He didn't make it, but you... you survived. Probably thanks to that young lady.«

Jae-Jung's head tilted slightly, his amber eyes narrowing. "The woman... who was she to me?"

His mother hesitated, glancing toward Ji-Soo. »We don't know much,« she admitted. »But Ji-Soo might.« The only person that wasn't introduced and remained mainly in the shadows until now.

As if on cue, the family began to discard out of the room, leaving Ji-Soo standing alone at his bedside. She studied him for a moment, her dirty yellow eyes glinting with something unreadable.

»Hye-Jin,« Ji-Soo said finally, her voice smooth, calculated. »That's her name. Cho Hye-Jin. Though I believe you already know as much.«

Ji-Soo wasn't someone to be underestimated, he noted. He gave no clue- he thought- but she still picked up on that. The name struck him like lightning, reverberating through the fragmented corridors of his mind. It was the only thing that felt stable, real.

Ji-Soo's lips curved into a faint smirk. "You were protecting her that night, Jae-Jung. You did, every night and day, for over four years. Why? I suppose that's what you're trying to remember, isn't it?"

Jae-Jung's jaw tightened, his fists clenching against the sheets. He didn't know why. But he was going to find out.

▸°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°◂

As Ji-Soo's words lingered in the room, another figure appeared in the doorway. His presence was commanding, even in the quiet stillness of the hospital. Chung Dae-Jung stepped inside, his sharp eyes sweeping over the room before settling on his son.

Jae-Jung felt the weight of the man's gaze, though he didn't recognize him. Yet there was something in the way Dae-Jung carried himself — his posture, his measured steps — that stirred an unfamiliar unease but sense of stability within Jae-Jung.

»I hope I'm not interrupting,« Dae-Jung said, his voice low but firm, directed more at Ji-Soo than his son. Ji-Soo's expression flickered briefly before she stepped back, allowing him to approach the bed.

Chung Dae-Jung folded his hands behind his back, studying his son as though he were trying to piece him back together. »Jae-Jung,« he said, his tone calm but laced with unspoken tension. »It's good to see you awake.«

Jae-Jung's amber eyes narrowed as he studied the man before him. An undeniable optical similarity- so they must be related to some extent. A close one at that. »And you are?«

For a moment, something akin to pain flashed across Dae-Jung's face, but he masked it quickly. »I'm your father,« he replied, his words deliberate. »Chung Dae-Jung. You may not remember me, but I assure you, I've been here for you.«

Ji-Soo observed the exchange quietly, her expression unreadable, though her presence remained heavy in the room.

Dae-Jung's voice softened slightly as he continued. »You've been through a great deal, Jae-Jung. You may not remember now, but you will. And when you do, we'll deal with everything together.«

Jae-Jung's distrust was palpable- though becoming less the more he analyzed the man in front of him, but he remained silent. Something about the man's words rang hollow to him — like there were things being left unsaid.

After a long pause, Dae-Jung straightened. »For now, rest. You need your strength. I'll return soon.« He cast a pointed look at Ji-Soo before leaving the room, the sound of his footsteps fading into the hallway.

As the door closed, Ji-Soo crossed her arms, a faint smile tugging at her lips. »Your father hasn't changed,« she remarked, her tone carrying a note of disdain.

Jae-Jung looked at her, his response cold, »As far as I'm concerned, he's your father as well.« Ji-Soo couldn't hide her smirk. Her brother hadn't changed after all. She was never introduced, nor did she introduce herself, still he picked up on their relation without her having to.

Silence intruded the room, Jae-Jung's mind swirling with questions. The name Chung Dae-Jung meant nothing to him, but the man's presence left an imprint that he couldn't ignore.