Uijae blinked slowly, staring at the unfamiliar white ceiling. Where was he? He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through his waist, making him gasp and swallow a scream. Just then, a cautious hand pressed gently against his chest.

“Stay lying down.”

“…What?”

Uijae blinked again. Sa-young, wearing a gas mask, was crouched on a small chair nearby. He let out a sigh and softly ran his gloved hand through Uijae’s hair, as if handling feathers.

“You passed out, hyung.”

“…I passed out? How?”

“From being hugged.”

“Huh?”

“To be precise… you passed out when I squeezed …