“Friends,” repeats Dr. Jang, and her usually clinical voice has a hint of grandmotherly pity in it. For a moment, she reminds him painfully of Chief Shim Him-chan, who passed on years ago. It was Chief Shim’s paternal meddling that led Hani to him, and Seokga misses the old man dearly. “It must be a rough adjustment, going from soulmates to simple friends.”

“No,” he replies sharply, a knee-jerk reflex to her scrutinizing stare and speculating words. “No. I’m glad to have her. As a friend.” In fact, he’d been rather jubilant about it until his therapist’s pity. Now he feels extremely pathetic.

Jang waits.

“She’s not Hani,” Seokga continues once the silence has become nearly painful. His voice sounds distant even to his own ears as he remembers the grinning, cheerful gumiho whose cluttered room was stuffed with outrageously smutty romance books and who drove like a madman. “And I’ve…I’ve accepted that. She doesn’t remember me. I will take whatever she will give me, even if they’re just crumbs from her table.”

“It’s hard to feel satiated on crumbs.”

“I know,” he snaps, before taking a thin breath through his nose. “But I’d rather have them than nothing at all. And she’s—” Seokga glances to Hwanin’s adjoining door. “She’s…incredible. Smart and kind and—and beautiful.” He smiles despite himself. “I like spending time with her, even if it’s just as friends.” It’s an unusually vulnerable admission for him, but he wants Kisa to hear.

Dr. Jang sighs quietly, so quietly that he barely hears the sad exhale. Seokga narrows his eyes at her. “What?” he demands.

“I’ve noticed a pattern,” the psychologist replies, “and I feel it’s important that I share it with you.”

He attempts to keep his face impassive as she begins. “You love fully and completely, only to have it returned in less than half.”

It cuts him in half, that statement. Right down to the bone.

“You loved your father. You still do.”

“Doubtful,” Seokga sneers.

“You do,” Dr. Jang continues, unperturbed. “You love him. I think that you would still do anything for him.”

Grief gives way to an appalled affront. “I most certainly would not,” he retorts. “He’s a madman. We locked him away for a reason.” Brows lowering, he glares down at Dr. Jang, who doesn’t seem to notice, or feel, the wrath of his glower. “Where are you going with this?” She knows, as he well does, that any hint of traitorous intent must be reported to Okhwang. Immediately.

Her lips purse. “I am not sure if you’ve noticed, Seokga, but I have not been taking my usual notes during this session. I’m coming to you as somebody who has come to care about you very deeply and is concerned. This conversation will remain between us. You have my word.”