Arc II - By a Thread - Part 3

They sat in silence in the back of the cab. Xiao Zhan clutched a plastic bag containing Yibo's personal effects in his lap. He watched as the first snow of winter fell in big fluffy flakes, dimming the city lights and yet making everything brighter. Seasons changed, and people went about their business. The world would go on, with or without Yibo. A sobering thought.

Once Xiao Zhan had recovered, the officer had spoken at length, pointing at different areas of the shattered helmet. Nurse Jang had nodded along without sparing Xiao Zhan one glance. Once the policeman had been done, she'd checked the items off the inventory list and made him sign it. She hadn't interpreted any of what had been discussed. Exhausted and still dizzy, he hadn't asked. But now, he wanted to know.

He turned to Nurse Jang. She was also looking out the window, chin resting in her hand. 

"Nurse Jang?"

She started and turned to look at him. She'd been asleep.

"I'm sorry I woke you up."

She rubbed her eyes.

"What do you need?" she asked in a sleepy voice.

"What did the officer say at the end? About the helmet?"

She yawned and shook her head slightly.

"I don't think it's information you should deal with in your current state."

Xiao Zhan frowned.

"Nurse Jang, I understand that you have the last word in the ICU, but I'm not your patient."

She clicked her tongue.

"Yet."

"Yet what?" Said Xiao Zhan.

"You're not my patient yet. But you might as well be at the rate you're fainting."

"I've been under a lot of stress…" he began. "Actually, I don't have to justify myself to you."

He was starting to lose patience.

"You don't, indeed. But take this as professional advice: a man of your age shouldn't be passing out like a flustered concubine every time something slightly upsetting happens."

He stared at her in disbelief. Flustered concubine?!

"Listen, I just want to know what he said. You're here to interpret, so please interpret," he said in a stern voice that didn't become him.

She glared at him.

"I'm a nurse, Mr. Xiao, not an interpreter."

He opened his mouth to reply but couldn't think of anything. She was right, of course. He just wished she wouldn't be so blunt all the time. He didn't have the mental energy to deal with her moods on top of everything else.

As quickly as his anger had flared up, the fight went out of him. He looked away and rubbed his temples. 

"I don't know what I did for you to dislike me so much, but please, just tell me."

She sighed, then remained silent for a while. When she finally spoke, Xiao Zhan had started to believe that she would never tell him.

"He said that the brand of helmet Mr. Wang was wearing has been in the news lately due to a manufacturing defect. He said they'd seen an increase in fatal accidents over the last year but that the defect had been hidden by the company until recently. The company has had a recall for this specific model, but they only did so after being sued."

Xiao Zhan felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He tightened his grip on the plastic bag. His armpits suddenly felt very damp. He pinched his lips and turned to her again. She avoided his eyes and looked out the window.

"You work in a hospital. You must have seen many accident victims," he said calmly.

"I have."

"And you saw the helmet."

"I did."

She clenched her fists in her lap.

"Do you think… Do you think he might be in a better state had he worn a different helmet?" He asked.

"Yes," she replied, her shoulders slumping a little.

She made to continue but hesitated a moment as if weighing the information she was about to give him. Then, finally, she looked him in the eyes.

"That's not even in question. Helmets crack, but they're not supposed to crack like that. Mr. Wang had plastic bits embedded deep into his skull. Had he been wearing a different helmet, he probably wouldn't have fractured his cranium that badly and might have been in a better state."

She waited a moment. The air felt heavy and uncomfortable.

"Have I done my job now?" She asked in a curt voice as if needing to regain control of the interaction and reassert her authority.

He nodded distractedly and looked at the back of the front seat without seeing it. It was all he needed to hear. It confirmed what his mind had been telling him from the beginning. He could have prevented this. He could've and hadn't. The fact that Yibo had agency and that Xiao Zhan hadn't caused the driver to hit him mattered very little. His brain had been needing a culprit, someone to blame. And who better than himself? Had he not encouraged Yibo in his dangerous hobby by buying him a helmet? Wasn't his brand choice directly connected to the gravity of his injuries? Maybe his unsent text message had been a sign of things to come.

He felt calm. Calmer than he had been in the last twenty-four hours. The doubts had been slowly driving him insane, but guilt, he could deal with. His reasoning, no matter how twisted, made sense to his exhausted brain.

They arrived at the hospital, and Xiao Zhan paid the fare. He went up the stairs, Nurse Jang in tow. 

"Mr. Xiao," she called as they were about to enter the building.

He turned to face her. She didn't look embarrassed in the slightest. They might as well have been returning from a pleasant walk. This woman truly was unfathomable.

"Are you going to your hotel tonight?"

He hadn't thought that far. Never in his life had he existed more moment to moment. He shrugged.

"Auntie Wang has been at Mr. Wang's bedside for almost two days now. I don't think she even booked accommodations."

He wasn't surprised.

"I'll be honest with you, Mr. Xiao. I'm not a doctor, but one thing is clear to me: Mr. Wang's recovery, if he recovers, will be a marathon, not a sprint. I know she doesn't want to leave his side, but we can't have her burn out this early in the race. He will need her more than she realizes."

Xiao Zhan nodded. 

"I'll make arrangements and make sure she gets some rest."

"I will be on my way then. Good Night, Mr. Xiao."

"Good night."

Getting a hotel booked turned out to be as easy as texting Chiyou and having her make arrangements. Getting Auntie Wang to actually go and get some rest turned out to be an entirely different game. It took a lot of cajoling and promises to make her give in. He felt it would have been easier had she broken down and cried, but the woman was a force to reckon with, countering his pleas and arguments with sound logic. In the end, he'd had to swear that he would call her if anything changed, even the most minor thing. He had gotten her in the taxi himself for fear that she would turn around and return to the ICU.

The cafeteria had already closed by the time Auntie Wang had gone, so he went to the hospital convenience store and bought himself a hot can of coffee and a kimbap roll, the only "fresh" food left in the display case. Back in the ICU, he caught sight of Head nurse Lee who was leaving. She smiled at him and bowed slightly. Now that she knew who he was, she was very friendly, unlike that thorny Nurse Jang. He bowed back and entered the ward.

The lights had been dimmed for the night, but the din of the equipment remained the same. He washed his hands and then walked to the end of the room. Yibo remained unchanged. He wondered if he would ever get used to it. And if he did, would that mean he had given up on hope?

He noticed a patient had been moved to the cubicle across the way. A young woman was sitting by the bed, crying silently. Xiao Zhan got up to pull the curtains. Their eyes met. He bowed slightly. She quickly looked away. He closed the curtain but not before noticing the person in the bed across was tiny. The thought of children in the ICU threatened to pull him down a dark path, so he pushed it away.

He moved a chair to the head of the bed and turned on a small adjustable lamp. He opened his coffee and took a few sips. He set the kimbap on a chair, untouched. He didn't feel hungry anymore. 

He looked at Yibo's face for a while, trying to take it in as if seeing it for the first time. Then, when he felt like he had memorized all his features, he looked at his hand. His long fingers rested on the blanket, slightly curled. Out of habit, he looked around to make sure nobody could see, then ran his own fingers along their length.

"How is it that your hands are bigger than mine?" He whispered.

He noticed there was a bruise at the base of his pinky. He must have been wearing a ring at the time of the accident. If so, he hoped they had been able to remove it without cutting it off. Yibo was particular about his jewelry, and every piece was selected carefully. Shoes and jewelry, you didn't want to mess with those when it came to him.

He chuckled to himself and paused his caresses to put his hand on top of Yibo's, gently hooking his fingers in the space between his thumb and his index.

"Look at me, worrying about rings when you're in this state," he said in a low voice.

He kept his eyes on their hands.

"I sent your mother to get some rest. So it's just you and me tonight. I hope you don't mind."

Xiao Zhan leaned sideways to put his can of coffee on the floor, then slid his other hand under Yibo's, cradling it.

"I went to the police station today. They showed me your helmet. It was pretty banged up."

He chanced a look at his bandaged head.

"It must have hurt a lot."

His shoulders slumped. He hung his head.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "This is all my fault."

He felt the tears coming. He looked up, fighting them. He was tired of crying. He had to get out of this constant state of moping and helplessness. He straightened himself, freed his hands and reached for the plastic bag containing Yibo's things. He opened the seal and fished out the keys. He held them up, trying to look as cheerful as he could.

"Your keys. The rabbit keychain is done for, I'm afraid. I'll get you another one."

He dropped the keys back in the bag and took out the wallet.

"I have this, too. Guess I'm going shopping."

He opened it up and slid out Yibo's Korean driver's license.

"I had never seen this one before."

He showed it to him.

"You look horrible in this picture. Ugly, even," he teased. " I think it beats my last passport picture. You were quite mean about that one. And I think that's why you didn't show this to me. You didn't want to admit defeat."

He put the card back and then took out the drawing. He unfolded it and held it up.

"Now, this one… This one is a mystery to me. Where is that from? Did I draw it in your script? Or did you steal it from mine? I'm really curious. You'll have some explaining to do when you wake up, Mr. Wang."

He put the drawing in its fold and put away the wallet. He then took out the watch. 

"You're going to be sad about this one. It's your favourite, the one your mom gave you when you debuted. The glass is cracked, but I think the face is ok. Let's see."

Xiao Zhan moved the watch under the light to take a better look. The hands had stopped at 11:35, but they didn't seem to be too damaged. Hopefully, the glass could be replaced and the mechanism repaired. He decided to ask Nurse Jang about finding a clockmaker the following day. Hopefully, she wouldn't be too grumpy to help him with something out of her job description.

He leaned back in his chair, fingering the watch.

"11:35. I guess that's when it happened," he mused. "I wondered what time it was in Thailand…"

He quickly made the math. It would have been 9:35. He would have been at that party. He felt guilty. He couldn't remember much, but there was something about that specific time, something that felt important. He just couldn't put his finger on it. Giving up, he put the watch back in the bag and set the whole thing on the floor next to his empty can of coffee. Then, he once again cradled Yibo's hand and rested his right cheek atop. He didn't know if that was allowed, but he told himself he was technically resting on his own hand, thus not breaking any rules. He was too tired to care anyway.

He was on the cusp of sleep when a memory jolted him awake. He sat bolt upright. 

9:35

You're crying.

A clear image of his co-star handing him a tissue came to his mind. 

He looked at Yibo, his heart racing. Had he…? Could he have…? No. How could this even be possible? And yet… He had had no reason to cry. Had he sensed it? 

He got closer to Yibo's face.

"Yibo. Did you… Did you call out to me?"