Guest was pressing his temples with his head bowed. It was starting again. Whether it was the aftershocks of a headache or a trick to avoid taking medicine—it was likely both.

After looking down at Guest for a moment, he put the pill in his own mouth. He took a sip of water. Then, he gripped Guest's chin. It was not a large hand, but it held an irresistible strength. He tilted the head up. Dazed eyes wandered through the darkness.

He pressed his lips against Guest's. More accurately, he forced the mouth open. The pill was pushed onto the tongue along with the water. It was a setup that left no choice but to swallow. It wasn't rough, but it wasn't gentle either. He couldn't afford to let any spill. Only after confirming the medicine had passed down the throat through the sensation of their lips did he pull away and wipe Guest's wet mouth with his thumb.

Next time, please take it obediently.

The attending physician, Lee Ye-jun. As soon as he entered with his bag, he assessed the situation. There was no agitation in his expression, as if this were a scene he had witnessed many times.

"Again?"

He clicked his tongue while opening his bag.

"When I checked yesterday, there were definitely two days' worth left. You skipped them secretly again because you couldn't sleep at night, didn't you?"

Han Jung-woo stepped aside. Ye-jun's hands moved quickly. It took only three seconds to wipe the inside of Guest's arm with an alcohol swab and find a vein. The needle slid under the skin.

As the medicine began to circulate, Guest's screams gradually subsided. The pleas for help turned into sobs, and the sobs into heavy breathing. While checking the vitals, he looked back at Han Jung-woo.

"The dependence on opioid-based painkillers is increasing. Regular headache medicine won't touch this at all. I'll hand over the medication schedule and prescriptions sometime today, so please take responsibility for making him take them. You're the best at that kind of thing, Jung-woo."

He looked at the fingernails. He was about to get up after clearing the water glass, but his gaze got stuck there. Ten fingers. All the tips were worn down. Some had raw skin exposed, and the index and middle fingers were torn down to the base of the nail. Every day. He must have endured every single day by doing that.

"Let me see your hands."

He didn't wait. He lifted Guest's left hand. He spread the long, thin fingers over his own palm. Seeing them up close, it was worse. The skin next to the thumb was gouged by a nail and had scabbed over. He traced the torn fingertips with his thumb. Carefully.

"..."