"…So, what am I supposed to do with this?"
I said, staring at my finger, where the blood had started to dry and harden.
I'd just promised to take care of this body, and now I've already messed up one part of it. I feel bad for the original owner.
For now, I needed treatment. If I left it like this, the glass shards embedded in my finger could dig deeper, causing trouble. Bacterial infection was a bonus concern. I wiggled my finger a bit.
"It moves fine…"
Thankfully, it didn't seem like the tendon was torn. If it had been, even surgery to repair it wouldn't have restored full sensation or movement. Having experienced a body breaking and healing before, I knew this well.
I sighed in relief, knowing I'd avoided the worst-case scenario. Still, I couldn't just leave it like this—I needed to go to the hospital. The problem was… I had no money.
I remembered that on the first day I woke up here, all I had was ten thousand won.
(Ugh, this broke idiot's life… No, my life now. What am I going to do?)
I'd rummaged through the drawers earlier, but there was no sign of money. I hadn't checked other places, but making a mess to search for cash wasn't ideal given the situation.
There wasn't time for that anyway. The adrenaline pumping through my brain was fading, and now the open wound on my finger stung like it was being sliced by a knife as the air hit it.
The hospital was a twenty-minute walk from here way too far for me right now. It was summer, and walking in this heat would make my finger throb so much I'd want to chop it off. Sweat could also lead to infection.
I needed someone to help me someone who could cover a taxi fare and maybe even my hospital bill.
After thinking for a moment, I recalled the part-time worker I'd met on my first day here. I remembered her slipping me a note with her phone number, which I'd carelessly stuffed into the pocket of my sweatpants.
(Good thing I didn't throw it out. I almost tossed it on my way home that day. I was so shocked I just came home and passed out.)
I hurriedly searched the sweatshirt sprawled on the floor next to my bed and found the note, still intact. I unfolded the crumpled paper, checked the number, and dialed it on my phone.
Her cheerful ringback tone played for a while, but there was no answer. I started to think:
(Now that I think about it, I'm calling from an unknown number. Even if she knew it was me, would she help some guy who just got her number once? I mean, it's kind of ridiculous for a woman to help a random guy. If I were a woman, I wouldn't help either.)
I calmed my overly hopeful heart.
Sighing, I hung up and started considering Plan B: walking to the hospital, getting treated, and maybe writing an IOU promising to pay later.
Just as I was mulling over this, the ringback tone stopped, and she picked up.
"Hello?"
I hadn't expected her to answer. Even though she did, asking for help felt embarrassing. Still, I decided to push forward, half-expecting to be turned down.
"Hi, this is the guy you gave your number to. I'm sorry to ask this out of the blue, but I need a favor."
As soon as I spoke, she responded brightly, her voice sounding like she was holding something back.
"Yes, yes, of course! Tell me what you need! I'll help however I can!"
She added under her breath, "I didn't think you'd actually call…"
Her reaction was better than I'd expected, giving me a sliver of hope. Maybe she'd actually help me.
"Thank you. Could I possibly know where you are right now?"
"Oh, yes, yes. It's nice out today, so I was at home for a bit and then came to the convenience store to buy something. The one where I was working, haha."
(One sentence turned into three.) Her willingness to help was appreciated, but I was in a rush, so I got straight to the point. Conveniently, she was at the store, which wasn't far from here.
"I know this is shameless, but could you come to my place? I'm injured, I don't have money for hospital bills, and I don't have anyone else to call. I'm really sorry for asking this."
"Uh… your place? Me? Is it okay for me to… I mean, what's your name?"
"I'm Ryu Sehwa."
"Oh, okay. So, Sehwa's place?"
Her voice wavered a bit, hesitant. Asking a woman to come to a stranger's house probably sounded odd. I decided to ask one more time, and if she refused, I'd go with Plan B.
"Yes, that's right. The convenience store you're at is about three minutes from here. I'd come to you, but it's so hot out, and I'm worried about my wound getting worse. It's okay if you can't, though. I know I'm asking a lot."
At that, she hurriedly replied in a loud, startled voice.
"No, no! I was just worried it might be rude for me to come to your place! If you're home, I'll head over right now. I'll call a taxi too!"
Her reaction was intense. (How kind is this woman?) Even with my shameless request, she didn't act like she was doing me a favor she treated it like it was her own problem.
"Thank you so much. Oh, I don't even know my savior's name. Your name is…?"
"I'm Shin Hayul!"
*Heh.*
"Okay, Hayul. Thank you so much. I'll text you my address right now."
I hung up and got ready to leave before Hayul arrived. I realized I was only wearing sweatpants, my upper body bare. I grabbed a sleeveless black tank top that was easy to slip on with my injured hand.
Wearing just a tank top felt a bit odd, but putting on a long-sleeved sweatshirt wasn't an option it might rub against my hand, and it was too hot outside. So, I waited for Hayul to arrive.
About five minutes later, the doorbell rang.
*Ding-dong!*
"Sehwa, I'm here!"
I replied that I'd open the door right away and saw her panting heavily as I opened it. Her ponytail, tied high, suited her cute, puppy-like face. Her long legs were accentuated by tight jeans, and a black bra was faintly visible under her tucked-in white short-sleeved shirt.
(Did she run here or something?) It was already a hot summer day, and I felt even worse for making Hayul go through this.
"Thank you so much for coming. Would you like some water?"
"Huff… huff… Yes, sorry, could I have some water… please?"
As Hayul caught her breath, she looked up at me and let out a strange sound.
I invited her inside, figuring I should at least offer my savior a glass of cold water. We had to wait for the taxi anyway.
As she followed me in, she couldn't take her eyes off my bare upper body in the tank top and said, "Uh… Sehwa, are you okay walking around like that in front of a woman? N-not that it's bad or anything… It just looks, uh, dangerous? I mean, not dangerous for me, but if you go outside like that!"
Her face turned as red as a runaway train, looking like it might explode. It felt hotter than asphalt under the summer sun.
"Oh, sorry if it made you uncomfortable. I was already feeling bad about greeting you like this…"
"No, no, that's not what I meant! Thank you! Really, I mean it! Your body is so beautiful, like a sculpture!"
She cut me off mid-sentence. (Four sentences this time.) I was starting to worry her red face might actually burst. I continued where I'd left off.
"…Anyway, sorry. I wanted to put something else on, but with my hand like this, I couldn't."
I held up my injured finger.
"Your hand? That's what you hurt… Oh."
Hayul finally noticed my hand and the messy state of the house. Her mood seemed to sink, and she spoke quietly, almost in shock at the sight of my hand.
"I won't ask what happened… but whatever it was, please don't do that."
I didn't know what she was thinking, but I just nodded. Soon after, her phone buzzed with a notification that the taxi had arrived. We left the house and got in. In the taxi, Hayul kept staring at my injured hand with wide, worried eyes.
Feeling awkward, I stayed quiet and looked out the window. Tall buildings stretched toward the sky, with countless people and cars filling the streets. Everyone seemed to be living so diligently. When I was obsessed with working out, I hadn't noticed how many people were out there.
I saw office workers in dress shirts and slacks chatting brightly over coffee at a café. I liked the sight people working hard to live their lives.
Lost in thought, we arrived at the hospital. Hayul, sitting by the door, paid the fare with her card, got out first, and held the door open for me. I bowed my head in thanks and squeezed my large frame through the narrow taxi door.
(Being tall is such a hassle sometimes.)
The hospital was as huge as I remembered. Cars were parked everywhere, and people streamed in and out of the entrance.
As soon as I stepped out of the taxi, all eyes were on me. Men and women alike stared, especially the women. The attention was irritating, and I couldn't help but frown. (If looks could kill, I'd be a mangled corpse by now.)
(What's everyone staring at? Never seen a guy with an injured hand? Oh, wait… with a wound like this, they probably think I hurt myself. Well, technically, I did…)
As I narrowed my eyes in annoyance, I overheard people whispering from a distance. Surprisingly, I could hear them clearly guess this body has good hearing too.
"Look at that guy. So freaking hot. That black tank top? Ugh, I just want to rip it off and devour his chest and abs."
"Pfft, are you crazy? But, like… I'm getting a little wet just looking at his face."
"You're the crazy one, you idiot!"
Two women who seemed like friends were giggling and exchanging crude comments. They probably thought I couldn't hear them, but I did.
(Are these women for real? They sound like horny dudes joking about a hot girl.)
I tuned them out. Then, I noticed a couple talking about me. A guy with mismatched foundation caked on his face and neck was speaking to his girlfriend.
"Hey, what are you looking at? Is it because he's dressed like that? Oh, I get it. He's got a pretty face and tattoos, so he looks easy? Go ahead, try your luck. I'm going home. Don't call me."
"No, no, baby! It's not like that. It's just, when a guy dresses like that, women can't help but look. Of course, you're way more handsome and prettier! What was that thing you wanted to buy? A bag? I'll buy you everything, so don't be mad. I'm sorry."
My fist trembled as I watched the guy dramatically turn his head and cross his arms, pouting.
(God, that's disgusting. What kind of guy acts like that? If I were her, I'd have knocked him out.)
I couldn't understand the woman putting up with him either. They were a perfect match, I guess. The guy wasn't even that good-looking, yet she was groveling, holding his arm and pleading as he sulked. Eventually, she seemed to win him over, pushing him along as if to say, "Let's go."
…But not before sneaking a creepy, lustful glance at my body while licking her lips behind his back.
As I grimaced at the ridiculous scene, Hayul noticed my expression and suddenly apologized.
"Sorry. I wish I had something for you to wear, but I don't… Should we head inside quickly?"
(She's been apologizing a lot.) I didn't know why she was sorry about my tank top, but it was too hot for a long-sleeved sweatshirt anyway, and I didn't want sweat getting into my wound.
We went into the hospital and headed to the emergency room. To get treated, I had to register and wait, so I approached the male staff at the counter. He looked at my face and body with what seemed like envy.
"Name and age?"
"Ryu Sehwa, 22."
I explained how I got hurt, where the injury was, and so on, finishing the registration. Out of curiosity, he asked to see my hand, so I showed him.
"Just wait over there, and you'll be called soon. Oh my… such a pretty hand got hurt so badly. What a shame."
(Ugh, I want to block out his voice.)
That was the second guy with an annoying tone. His deep voice made me want to gag.
After enduring questions about skincare and fitness routines, I finally finished registering and sat among the other patients waiting for treatment.
But ever since we entered the ER, the stares were intense. It was the same as when I got out of the taxi especially from the women in the room, who kept sneaking glances at me.
(I get that I'm good-looking, but stop staring already.)
Even Hayul, sitting next to me, seemed restless, constantly looking around and then at me, fidgeting nervously.
(What's got Hayul so anxious? I don't get any of this.)
Resigned, I closed my eyes and leaned back in the chair. A male nurse called my name, and I stood up, heading into the treatment room with Hayul.
(They have male nurses in the ER here?)
I sat in front of a kind-looking, older female doctor. She injected a local anesthetic under the skin of my torn finger and waited for it to take effect. Then, she glanced at Hayul beside me with a suspicious look and asked, "Oh dear, how did a man's hand end up like this? Who's the person next to you?"
(A man's hand getting injured is just life. If a guy's hand doesn't have a single scar, is he even a man?)
As long as it wasn't severed or something critical, it wasn't a big deal. I answered casually.
"She's my savior. I just… accidentally hit some glass."
No way was I admitting I broke a mirror. I didn't want to look like a lunatic who smashed a perfectly good mirror and ended up here.
The doctor gave Hayul another subtle glance before quietly using tweezers to remove glass shards from my anesthetized finger.
Hayul watched with a pained expression, as if she were the one hurting.
(Honestly, I can't feel a thing because of the anesthesia.)
After cleaning the wound with saline or something and removing all the glass, the doctor stitched up my finger and started talking about her daughter.
"It breaks my heart to see young people come into the ER injured. It reminds me of my daughter, who's in the military."
(Oh, a woman in the military? Is she a non-commissioned officer or an officer?) I was curious about something so uncommon.
"Is your daughter a career soldier?"
"Hm? Haha, no. She's just a regular conscript. Went in right after turning 20."
(…What?)
_________________________________________
Translated by Reversalmanhwa.web.id
/ Reversalnovel.web.id