Seokga flinches. Is this the purpose of these hypotheticals, then? Some skewed attempt at self-reflection? His knuckles shine as he grips his cane’s hilt. “Excuse me,” Seokga gasps out as he makes for the door, suddenly feeling nauseous with an awful mixture of regret, confusion, anger, and longing. It’s one thing to fear becoming like his father. It’s an entirely different one to consider not what could have been, but what still could be. Dr. Jang is goading him and she knows it. As he fumbles with the lock and staggers from the room, Seokga wonders why in the seven hells Dr. Jang is paid so handsomely to torture him like this. It’s a relief when he slams the door to his own suite shut, a relief when he glimpses Kisa sitting upright in his bed. As he enters, her eyes widen and one of her hands flutters to the space above her heart. Somi and Hajun hover nervously beside her, Somi clutching one of Hwanin’s small feet as the baby hovers in the air. Kisa’s eyes widen and she stretches out her other hand, reaching for him.

“Seokga?” she whispers. “What in the realms happened?”

He doesn’t take his eyes off her. “Out,” he says sharply to Hajun and Somi as he strides for Hwanin, knocking Somi aside to tug the baby down into his arms.

“Absolutely not,” the gumiho snaps, but Hajun has already met Seokga’s gaze with a small nod of understanding, and is hauling Somi to the door. Her aghast protests echo down the hallway as Hajun totes her away, the door closing sharply behind them.

Aware of Kisa’s intently curious stare, Seokga attempts—with extreme effort—to control his thoughts, so as to not overwhelm her. Slowly, he settles down on the bed next to her, Hwanin cooing contentedly as he snuggles against his big brother’s chest.

“Kisa,” Seokga says quietly, scanning what he can see of her above the heavy blankets.

“I’m fine,” she quickly replies, reaching over to offer Hwanin her finger. The baby stares at it, unimpressed, before reluctantly curling his hand around it and inspecting the digit rather begrudgingly. “I don’t—want to talk about it right now. Later, I-I might. But just for a bit, I want to…rest. But I want—need—you to tell me what happened to the captain. To Soo-min.”

His mouth flattens, but the red thread is carrying Kisa’s exhaustion over to him in debilitating waves, and she looks so frail—so haggard, without the usual brightness in those magnificent eyes of hers. Seokga won’t argue with her.

Not right now, at least. She’s not a worthy opponent like this.