Good Night, Brother! - Chapter 9.9

Eun Hyun hesitated, unsure of what to say. But before he could come up with a response, Yi Hyeon pressed forward confidently.

“Euni, can you hear your dad’s voice?”

Yi Hyeon circled his hands gently, massaging Eun Hyun’s belly in slow, deliberate movements. Eun Hyun quickly caught one of those hands.

“…Stop. Your touch feels inappropriate.”

“What? No way. Euni, Eun Hyun-daddy is thinking something weird.”

Eun Hyun’s face turned bright red, and he shouted in flustered denial.

“I’m not! You’re the one who’s being weird!”

“Hyung, you’re going to scare the baby.”

“Ugh… Just take your hand off.”

“I’m just trying to comfort Euni, though.”

“…….”

“Right, Euni? Don’t you like it when Daddy rubs your belly? Yes, Daddy. I love it.”

This lunatic was now having a conversation as both himself and the baby. Eun Hyun felt his stomach lurch, whether from nausea or sheer disbelief.

“Hey… I think I’m going to be sick. Please stop.”

“Hyung, have you talked to Euni yet? They say you should talk to babies often.”

“Cut it out. I read somewhere they can’t even hear until five months in.”

“Hah. Seriously, Hyung…”

Though he pouted as if annoyed, Yi Hyeon found himself utterly smitten with how diligently Eun Hyun had researched baby development stages.

Leaning closer, Yi Hyeon brushed his lips against the collar of Eun Hyun’s shirt, hiding a grin that threatened to break through.

By Saturday, Eun Hyun had reluctantly agreed to let Yi Hyeon accompany him to the obstetrician for the first time.

The doctor greeted them with a warm smile. “Ah, you brought your partner today. That’s wonderful.”

Curled into a fetal position, the baby was now developed enough that it was easy to discern their head even without the doctor pointing it out. Measuring just two centimeters, the tiny figure twitched and stretched its newly formed hands and feet. The doctor mentioned how rare it was to catch such active movements on ultrasound, calling them lucky.

Yi Hyeon stared, utterly entranced, while Eun Hyun found his own gaze fixed on the screen.

Watching the tiny shape wriggle, Eun Hyun felt the reality of the life growing inside him sink in. This small, flickering being was growing day by day, despite the uncertainty and instability surrounding its existence.

If his parents demanded he terminate the pregnancy… Could he really go through with it?

Eun Hyun didn’t know the answer.

Outside the clinic, Yi Hyeon held the ultrasound photos with reverence, his fingers tracing the glossy surface.

“Our baby is so beautiful.”

“You can’t even see anything. How is that beautiful?”

“I can see everything. They look just like you, Hyung. Gorgeous.”

Jeong Yi Hyeon… How does he say these things with a straight face?

“Hyung, should we make our baby a child actor?”

The sheer audacity of his imagination left Eun Hyun dumbfounded. A staff member at the reception desk stifled a laugh.

By mid-July, the heat was relentless, and it had been nearly two weeks since they last visited their parents.

The baby in Eun Hyun’s womb grew steadily, oblivious to the adults’ unspoken conflict. Eun Hyun waited anxiously for his parents’ decision, though he tried to appear patient.

Returning home from work one Friday evening, Eun Hyun’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Seeing “Mom” displayed on the screen made his heart pound.

His fingers trembled as he answered.

“Mom?”

“Eun Hyun…”

It was his mother’s voice, soft and tear-choked.

He couldn’t recall ever hearing her cry—not openly, at least. Shock widened his eyes as his grip on the phone tightened.

“Mom? Are you… crying?”

“Eun Hyun…”

She said his name again, her words faltering. Anxiety coiled tighter in his chest, though he tried to sound calm.

“I’m here, Mom. Talk to me. I’m listening.”

“Your dad… He’s been diagnosed with stage 4 stomach cancer.”

“…What?”

“What do we do, Eun Hyun? What are we supposed to do…”

The world went dark despite his eyes being wide open. It felt like the ground beneath him crumbled away, dragging him into a lightless void.

His lips quivered as he forced out a response.

“Wait… What? How… How did this happen?”

His mother’s voice was trembling.

“You know how your dad gets stomach issues when he’s stressed…”

The word “stress” landed like a heavy stone in his chest.

“He said he’d been feeling pain in his back and throwing up, so he went to the hospital. The doctor said it’s advanced cancer and suggested a gastrectomy.”

“But… Dad had a health checkup last year. Didn’t he get an endoscopy?”

“He did. They removed some polyps and gave him medicine for gastritis.”

“Then how? How could it be stage 4 in just a year?”

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