Chapter Text
Jisung used to keep a pink Orchid by his bedside, in a milk-jug that had a chip on the handle. It was a gift from his Father, given to him on the day of his tenth birthday, and somehow exceeded all expectations of life as a measly flower. It always caught the sun on its petals, illuminating a rich glow.
There was nothing in Jisung’s room now that made him feel the same warmth as his Orchid. It was empty, with nothing but a bed, sink and toilet. The walls were all the same shade of chalk-white, and the fluorescent lights were too harsh for an Orchid to catch.
If Jisung didn’t believe he was there with purpose, he would’ve resented the coldness of the room. And, if there weren’t two nurses standing by the edge of his bed to escort him, he probably would still be asleep and dreaming of home.
“Good morning, Mr Han Jisung,” they said in unison. Jisung wondered if they were twins, their characteristics so similar - from their white pinafore dresses, to their hair that was tightly pulled back into a bun. They both wore a tight grin on their face and an emptiness in their eyes. If they didn’t wear name badges that displayed their only point of difference, he’d have no idea which was Nurse Mi-Hwa or Nurse Bo-Hwa.
Jisung groaned, forcing himself to stand up. He always flinched when he felt the coldness of the floor beneath his bare feet.
“They’re going to announce the selected participants today, right?” Jisung asked, slipping into his shoes. He felt grateful that he didn’t have to change his clothes to get ready, with every participant dressed in sweats that were a blush pink.
“That’s correct,” Nurse Mi-Hwa replied.
“It’s a great day to celebrate, isn’t it, Mr Han Jisung?” Nurse Bo-Hwa added.
Jisung scoffed. “You don’t need to say my entire name every time.”
“That’s impossible, Mr Han Jisung,” Nurse Bo-Hwa said. “We are not of that authority.”
“Yes, Mr Han Jisung,” Nurse Mi-Hwa confirmed. “You’re aware of this, already. Right?”
Jisung was very aware of it. The hierarchical order was made clear from the first day he had arrived at the ORCHID Treatment Facility, after all. It just always felt a little much to him - no matter how he thought about it.
The nurses guided Jisung toward the main hall, one always walking in front and one behind. It felt like a superfluous escort, but this was another rule that Jisung was told could go unbroken. Though, it made Jisung feel better when he saw others being guided the same as him, with nurses who also bore uncanny similarities to his.
It was just once a month that all the participants gathered in one place; outside of that, it was a rare experience to see anyone else outside of their own unit. Jisung was always scanning everyone’s faces, trying to remember them so that he could tell the new from the old.
“There are more people here than usual,” Jisung observed. Neither of his Nurse escorts responded – they never spoke in the halls.
By Jisung’s count, there were roughly two hundred participants gathering in the main hall. Seats were lined in rows, everyone sitting one by one as their Nurse escorts stood by the walls to the side. And, in front, positioned in the centre of the raised platform stage, was a pine lectern with an Orchid flower etched into the wood.
Compared to Jisung’s room, the main hall was magnificent and warmed by the sun, large frosted windows welcoming the light. The walls and floors were wood, and there wasn’t a speck of cold white. He imagined how his treasured Orchid might thrive in a room like that – if only he had been allowed to bring it with him.
Jisung was in the eighth row. Far enough away that he could evade the intense gaze from anyone on the stage, but close enough that he didn’t have to strain. He was always in the eighth row, no matter who came and left. But, as Doctor Hei-Ran entered the stage, he secretly hoped to get just a little closer.
Doctor Hei-Ran walked gracefully to the lectern, a warm smile upon her face and her dark wavy hair bouncing with each step. Jisung was in awe of her presence every time. He’d grown up seeing her in newspapers or on the television, and yet she always seemed more impressive in real life.
Doctor Hei-Ran. She was the President and Founder of ORCHID, and the key person involved in the treatment development. Without her, South Korea would have no hope for the future – she was that kind of person. But, most of all, she was the person responsible for saving Jisung’s Mother’s life many years ago. One day, he promised himself, he would thank her.
“Welcome everyone,” she spoke, her voice comforting. “Wow, it’s incredible to always see you here each month – some new faces too. This is probably my favourite day, as much as many of you also cherish it.”
Sitting on the stage to either side of Doctor Hei-Ran, without much expression or movement, were the other leading doctors of ORCHID. Jisung hadn’t met many of them, others only in passing. But, the one that had been assigned to him sat on the left-hand side, his expression always annoyingly disinterested.
Unlike the Nurses, the head Doctors were the only ones on a first-name basis with the participants. Jisung wondered if it was to create an illusion of comradery or closeness, but he couldn’t imagine ever feeling close to his assigned Doctor, Lee Minho. Dark eyes that glimmered in the light, and hair a blue-black. He was handsome, no-doubt, but there was something about him that rubbed Jisung the wrong way.
Doctor Hei-Ran signalled her hand, ushering others to come on to the stage that Jisung couldn’t see. But, he knew what was behind the curtain straight away.
It was rolled out on a black iron cart, a crystal bowl with folded paper filling the space.
It’s time. Jisung felt his heart start to pound, despite knowing his name wouldn’t be in there – only those that were eligible were. It was just the general anticipation; someone was going to be selected, at least ten of the people in that very room. And, every time he heard a name called, he’d feel hope that maybe his name could be called one day too.
Before taking the first name, Doctor Hei-Ran paused to speak. “As you know, this program was developed because of the tragic outcomes of the pandemic. Our cities are still recovering, and sadly… Our Mothers, Daughters, Sisters and Aunts–” She paused, everyone feeling the burden of her words. “Well, they are watching over us.”
Doctor Hei-Ran talked about this each time, but it always ran deep for everyone in the room. Jisung’s Mother was almost a victim to the pandemic like the others, after all.
“And now,” she continued. “After years of continued developments, we’re able to have hope again. And, that’s all because of you, who are here to make sure that we can have a future, and that we can continue on for generations without fear. So, thank you.”
Everyone clapped, enthusiastically and motivated by her words – Jisung too. Doctor Hei-Ran revelled in the cheers, clapping along with everyone.
“Without any more time to waste,” she said with great delight. “Let us find out who has been selected this month for the next and most important stages of treatment: who will be the guiding lights in our journey to the future?”
One by one, the folded paper was pulled from the bowl and names were called as written, until ten participants were on the stage. They were greeted personally, and applauded by everyone. But the only thing that Jisung could think was – when will it be me?
༺✧༻
“Have you noticed any side effects since the last treatment?” Minho asked, writing notes as he spoke. Jisung had started the treatment two weeks prior, two days after the last selection. It was all so vaguely described, but noted that the side effects could be more noticeable than others done. If Jisung didn’t trust the treatments developed by Doctor Hei-Ran so much, he’d probably be more nervous than he was.
Jisung thought for a moment. “Hm… It might sound weird, but I feel like my nose has become a bit more sensitive. I think I might have even started smelling a bit… Not like B.O or anything, it’s kinda nice? But I’m not sure.”
“That’s expected. It’s a sign that the treatment was effective.”
“Ah… Is it?” Jisung replied, unsure about what that meant.
“Can you identify what you think you smell like? We’ll make note of it for your records.”
“Uh… It’s sweet… Something tropical like lychee or something… But, it also kind of smells… Maybe earthy? I dunno. Sorry, I don’t really recognise it.”
“Lean forward,” Minho said, almost bored in expression.
Jisung blinked, furrowing his brows. “W-Why?” He asked, but rather than waiting for an answer, his body moved first.
Jisung leaned in closer to Minho, hesitant about getting too close. Minho moved as well, his face was hovering near Jisung’s neck. For a split moment, Jisung thought he felt the slight touch of his nose on his skin. Is he…?
“Patchouli.” Minho sat back, writing the words without taking any further feedback from Jisung.
“Pa-whatta?” Patchy… Patoul… Patching…? What is it?
“Your scent,” Minho said, sighing. “You were correct in identifying the lychee. The secondary scent that you were noticing is patchouli.”
Jisung tilted his head in confusion. He hadn’t heard of it before. “What’s that?”
“We will collate your scent profile. Before that, we will be running some further tests in the afternoon. We need to establish if there are any variations prior to creating your profile.”
“Variations…? What kind of variations?”
Minho pulled on Jisung’s hand, suddenly pricking it to draw blood. Jisung whined, annoyed at the sudden treatment.
“W-What was that for?”
“It is required,” Minho replied. The device that drew blood was white and looked like plastic. Minho studied it, checking his watch in alignment like a timer.
Jisung remembered what exactly it was that rubbed him the wrong way about Minho. He’d never answer a question directly, and only gave robotic explanations. Unlike the others there, he always looked so miserable. Jisung wondered often if Minho even cared about ORCHID’s mission – and, he hated even more that he could work closely with Doctor Hei-Ran when he didn’t seem to have any passion.
It seemed as though Minho was finishing his final notes, revealing a tiny window of time for Jisung to ask the question that had been burdening him.
“I’ll find out soon, right?” Jisung asked.
“Find out what?”
“If I’m eligible for Selection?”
Minho pressed his pen hard against the paper. “Correct. Once we have completed this treatment stage, we will be able to evaluate your eligibility for selection.”
There was a small relief that released a weight off Jisung’s chest, but there were other questions that he had building up. “Do you know what happens to people who are selected?”
“We only reveal that to those who are selected,” Minho said, his tone sharp.
Jisung rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Hmph, of course you’d say that…”
“What I can say is, if you are selected, you will find your next lodgings a lot more comfortable.”
Comfortable. Well, he thought anything would probably be more comfortable than what he was in at the time. But, by the way Minho spoke, it felt like it was more than just an upgrade to the mattress softness. Jisung’s imagination flew with ideas of what it could look like. He wanted to see it, too.
“Do you think… If I’m eligible, I can call my family?” Jisung asked, his voice timid.
Minho paused. “You are aware that it’s not generally permitted to have contact with anyone outside of the treatment facility while you are here – that it can interfere with treatments.”
Of course I know that already. Jisung knew. He just… Missed his family.
“There’s really no way to find out how they’re doing? What if they’re worried?” Jisung asked.
Minho sighed. “It’s important to you?”
“Of course it is. They’re the reason why I came here in the first place.”
Minho’s eyes glazed over, and yet he still seemed present. Jisung felt the stare menacingly, piercing through his skull. He felt himself wishing he’d not asked. But, just as he thought he was caving to the pressure of his gaze, Minho blinked.
“The next treatment stage will commence in two days. Rest well until then,” Minho said, before abruptly leaving the room.
Two days. Jisung slumped over in his bed, feeling more lost than he was ten minutes ago. He wished more than anything that he could talk to his family, to see how they were, and to know that everything that he wss doing in there was worth it. He wanted to make them proud. But, he didn’t know how to do that if they didn’t know of the things he was doing well.
“Mum, Dad… Hyun-Soo, my brother… You’re proud of me, right?” Jisung softly said aloud. “I’ll make sure that I’m eligible so I can be selected… We’ll never have any worries again, right? You’ll tell me I’ve done a good job, right?”
Jisung’s heart felt heavy as he reminisced about his family. It’d been countless months since he’d last spoken to them, or seen their familiar faces. He regretted every day not having anything of theirs, not even a photo.
I just want to hear that they’re doing well, too.
༺✧༻
Two days later, it was time for the next stage of treatment as Minho had said. Jisung had been brought to a room he’d only ever walked past before. It was larger than he had anticipated compared to the subtle entry-way down a narrow hall. But, to his surprise, the room itself was more bizarre than any he’d ever seen before.
There were, what Jisung assumed to be, purple fibreglass triangles layered across the room’s surfaces. The floor was made from a mesh wire, with the same triangles on the walls and ceiling below their feet. Jisung had never seen a room like it. And, despite the array of nurses and people in white coats talking around a beige chair positioned in the middle of the room, it felt eerily quiet. Jisung felt a pressure on his ears from the sound that was absent.
“Mr Han Jisung, please take a seat on the chair over there,” Nurse Bo-Hwa said, while Nurse Mi-Hwa ushered him forward. They’d politely escorted him without a word as always, not giving any inclination of what the treatment may involve. He still found it fascinating how they were able to hold their smile without wavering.
Jisung walked closer toward the chair, which appeared no different to the kind you would find at a dentist, while scanning the room to see what Minho was preparing. But, to his surprise, he couldn’t see him anywhere.
“Is Minho not running my treatment today?” Jisung asked, settling himself on the plush chair. But, no one responded. He felt unsettled as he tried to understand what was happening. Even if Minho refused to answer most questions, he would have at least said something.
Suddenly, the door opened and two people entered the room. Jisung saw Minho first, weirdly feeling relieved that he hadn’t suddenly disappeared. But, that feeling was immediately halted by the paralysing shock he felt by the other person beside him. It was hard to believe that what he was seeing was real, or maybe it was an illusion?
“D-Doctor Hei-Ran?” Jisung stammered, his mouth agape. What the hell is Minho doing with her? But, more importantly… Why is Doctor Hei-Ran here of all places?
Jisung sat up, his posture firm and tall. He tussled with his hair, fixing any loose strands that he could feel before Doctor Hei-Ran and Minho approached him.
“You must be Han Jisung, is that right?” She asked, holding out her hand to greet him. Jisung was frozen, unable to meet her hand. She pursed her lips, brows furrowed in response as she directed herself toward Minho. “Is he having troubles with the side effects?”
Minho scoffed. “No, he’s just a big fan of yours.”
Jisung wanted to glare at him, but he was so enamoured by the presence of Doctor Hei-Ran that he couldn’t move an inch.
“I just came by to see the room. – It’s been newly designed, based on the design of an anechoic chamber. We’re hopeful that it will lead to better results with the treatments,” she said.
“There will be less sounds to interfere with the treatment,” Minho clarified. “Since the surfaces are triangles, sound can’t bounce off of it.”
“Well done explaining, Minho,” Doctor Hei-Ran said. With a smile, she turned back to Jisung. “Well, I must be on my leave then. Good luck, Jisung.”
Jisung wanted to call out to her to wait, but he still couldn’t speak. Instead, he watched as his idol left without another word. He pouted as he realised he’d missed the perfect opportunity to tell her how thankful he was. Dammit.
“Are you finished gawking over the President?” Minho scoffed, pressing on Jisung’s shoulders to signal him to lean back on the chair again.
Jisung glared. “You should be gawking over her too.”
“Hm? Why’s that?” Minho stood to the side of the chair, analysing the collection of IV bags that hung on hooks, all filled with differently coloured liquids. “Is that some kind of requirement somewhere?”
“It should be,” Jisung muttered.
“Everything appears to be in order,” Minho announced. “We can commence this treatment stage as soon as the nurses prepare.”
Just as if it were a command, the people who were huddling around the chair swooped in to connect Jisung to the IVs. He was worried at first, that they would require a bunch of needles, but to his surprise, they were all connected to one singular line. Jisung whined as he felt the pinch from the needle. It was made worse as the others started to strap his legs and arms to the bed, restricting his movement in an instant.
“W-What’s the treatment about?” Jisung asked, squirming to get comfortable under the pressure of the leather straps.
“It’s similar to the last one,” Minho explained. “The liquid entering your body will be directly targeting your hormones.”
“Right, that’s no different to before. What’s with the straps… And this room?”
“Just relax,” Minho bluntly replied. “We’ll need to keep you still during this treatment. Are you comfortable?”
“S-Sure,” Jisung lied. He wondered how he could possibly be comfortable being strapped to a bed with so many people around him. But for some reason, he couldn’t say it aloud.
“Above you, you probably have noticed a screen on the ceiling.” Minho pointed up. Jisung hadn’t noticed, of course. “We’ll be displaying a series of images on this screen. It’s imperative that you look only at the screen.”
“Why?”
Minho ignored him again. “If we observe that you were diverting your eyes from the screen, we will be required to hold your head in place.”
“And if I move my eyes?” Jisung asked, not expecting an answer. But, his comment caused Minho to clench his jaw.
“It’s my recommendation that you don’t.”
Jisung grimaced. The mood of this treatment felt different to the last he’d had - more rules, and more of Jisung’s efforts. Even more than that, it felt like there were consequences. The energy of the room made him nervous, like they were trying to be purposefully distant.
“We will dim the lights to make it easier for you not to let your eyes wander,” Minho noted. “Once the screen turns on, try your best to blink sparingly.”
Jisung took a breath, trying to relax himself despite the atmosphere he felt around him. His arm hurt where the needle was, but he tried to ignore it as best as he could.
“We’ll be in the next room, watching through glass so that we don’t disturb you,” Minho said. “There are microphones set up so that we can hear you, so speak up if you need to alert us to anything.”
“It… Won’t hurt, right?” Jisung asked.
Minho looked down at Jisung, his eyes floating over Jisung’s arm. “I think that will speak to your tolerance. Though, it shouldn’t hurt any more than the needle in your arm.”
“That’s reassuring,” Jisung said with a scoff.
“I wasn’t trying to reassure you,” Minho replied bluntly. “We’ll take our leave now. The room will be dim for the duration of the treatment. Remember, stay as still as you possibly can.”
Jisung felt the rub of the straps on his arms, wanting to laugh at the concept of moving. But suddenly, he was alone. The room was more silent than anything he’d ever experienced before. He was somehow able to hear the blood pumping through his body.
With a click, the lights turned dark - far more than what Jisung would consider ‘dim.’ The screen above him glowed slightly, without a picture to bring it to life. That was when he heard the sound of a bell ring, and the screen rapidly started to flash images he’d never seen before.
From the surprise, Jisung clenched his eyes tightly shut. There was a crackling sound before Jisung heard a voice broadcast through the room.
“Jisung.” It was Minho’s voice. “You can’t close your eyes.”
Right. Jisung had completely forgotten. But, he couldn’t help but feel like getting a little countdown would have helped him stay focused.
Jisung took a deep breath, closing his eyes once more before forcing them open and unmoving. He expected them to hurt, but at least he would get it right.
The sound of a bell rang once more, signalling to Jisung that it was time. And, exactly three seconds after he heard the sound, the images started to flash again. They moved so quickly that it was hard to keep track of what was happening. There would be pictures of nature, then suddenly, something gruesome. His entire body was reacting to the images - but he couldn’t allow himself to move.
Jisung’s mind felt like it was being churned through a meat grinder and he was painfully aware of the fluid entering his body through the IV.
How is this not more painful?
It felt like he was there for hours, locked on the screen until he couldn’t feel the effects anymore. He felt numb to the flashing images, some seemingly playing on repeat.
Jisung couldn’t recall the last time he took a breath.
Dammit.
“Can we stop?” Jisung asked, exhausted. There was no response, maybe too quiet.
I need it to stop. Please.
Fuck.
“Can we stop?” Jisung called out, louder this time.
The screen turned to black.
Jisung gasped, struck by the sensation of his held breath. He let his body fall as if it had anywhere to go.
Fuck.
A buzzer clicked, crackling sounds of the microphone to the speaker as Minho’s voice pricked Jisung’s ears. “The treatment has been concluded. Well done, Jisung.”
Well done. Jisung wanted to laugh. Was that a compliment just now?
Jisung didn’t care either way, what Minho thought of him. But once he was able to think clearly again for a moment, Jisung wondered if that was enough – enough for him to be eligible.
Enough to make his family proud.
Enough to be someone that mattered.
Can it be enough?