Fragments of memory began to surface.
“Well, it’s a relief if there’s no bad blood between you two.”
That was the day I went out to pick a gift for Seo Junho. The atmosphere in the car had been a bit awkward until that moment, but it had just begun to ease. With a faint smile still lingering on my face, I spoke up as if reassured.
Shim Tae-seong had answered without a second of hesitation.
“That won’t happen. At least, not from my side.”
How could he have been so certain?
…You never know what could happen between people.
From his perspective, it must have looked like I reached out first, only to run away immediately after. The sense of futility and betrayal he felt would have been indescribable. If he’d even regained memories from before the regression, then there’d be nothing more to say.
If I were in Shim Tae-seong’s shoes… I might’ve harbored hatred.
And yet, when he came to get me, Shim Tae-seong’s expression wasn’t any of the things I had imagined. There was a flicker of anger boiling just beneath the surface, yes—but it wasn’t directed at me.
Even in a situation where a guide capable of satisfying him was right in front of him, what came through stronger than thirst or desire was unmistakable concern for my condition.
So much so that even I, who had been fine, began to doubt my own state of mind.
“Young master.”
Thanks to that, it became much easier to fully immerse myself in expressing the emotional wreckage I was supposed to portray.
I stared at Shim Tae-seong with dulled eyes. By then, I was already at his house, dressed in the clothes that had been prepared in advance, sitting in a chair in the living room. Having been naked for so long, even the texture of fabric felt unfamiliar.
Sunlight poured through the wide window and soaked my body. After being trapped in a dark, dreary place, natural light felt like a rare luxury.
“Are you hurting anywhere?”
With his back to the window, Shim Tae-seong knelt down on the floor before me. Our eyes were almost level. He examined my expressionless face up close, and for a moment, a shadow of sorrow passed over his features.
I quietly opened my mouth.
“I’m fine. I feel nothing at all.”
Even to my own ears, my voice sounded eerily flat.
That was all I said.
I closed my mouth again and silently stared out the window. Shim Tae-seong remained quiet as well. It seemed he was being careful with his words, perhaps out of consideration for my seemingly broken state. Or maybe he simply didn’t know what to say, or how to begin.
The shared silence between us spread like deathly stillness.
Only after a long while did I shift my gaze back toward him, as though something had just occurred to me.
His dark brown eyes hadn’t left me even for a second.
I slowly extended both hands toward him. Whether it was an invitation to hold them or an offer to be embraced, the gesture was ambiguous.
“Would you like me to guide you?”
I know you’re not the one who saved me from Joo Cheong-gyeong. I know that you’re no different from the other three. That hiding me, dividing me among yourselves, and handling me in your own ways—none of that had anything to do with my will. It was all premeditated.
I no longer had the will to resist or to deny that reality. I was just too exhausted. I wanted to accept everything and be done with it. Just like I had done with my brother, it was only right that I pay the price with you as well. Feeling betrayed… didn’t even seem fair. After all, the betrayal you must have felt because of me was likely far more devastating.
I laced that kind of hollow resignation carefully into my gaze.
Shim Tae-seong’s face froze as if he’d fully understood what I meant. He looked blankly down at the hands extended toward him.
“I…”
He struggled to speak.
“I didn’t bring you here for guiding, young master. Please don’t concern yourself with my condition.”
Touching words, at least.
I nodded inwardly, then blinked slowly as if to say I didn’t quite believe him.
“If you’re holding back because I make you uncomfortable, you can wait until you’re ready.”
“……!”
“Even if I’m asleep, it’s fine.”
His jaw clenched at the way I spoke, like I was offering myself up as some kind of guiding machine. The shock that had spread across his face instantly shifted into anger. As I watched his twisted expression, I realized that Shim Tae-seong was more naïve than I had assumed.
He probably knew what kind of people Jang Hee-gang and Joo Cheong-gyeong really were—but even so, it seemed he believed they wouldn’t be harsh to me, their guide. Like maybe, despite everything, they’d maintain a basic line of human decency. Like they’d treat me as a person.
As if they’d never do something like lock me up naked behind bars.
…Maybe he thought they’d at least uphold that minimal standard.
He didn’t know. He didn’t know that I had, to some degree, even enjoyed it.
All Shim Tae-seong could do was grit his teeth, holding back the murderous rage boiling beneath the surface.
“You’re not someone who should ever be treated that way.”
Despite the harsh edge to his voice, his hand came to rest on my wrist with the gentleness of a feather.
“Don’t think that way. Don’t say such things.”
I looked at him with the same empty expression, like someone who had given up on thinking altogether. Then, slowly, my lashes drooped.
My eyes landed on the large hand covering my sleeve. It was clear that he was doing everything he could to avoid direct skin contact.
He was holding back—painfully so. Unlike the others, who had lunged without hesitation, ready to shatter both the guiding and the body offering it, Shim Tae-seong held himself with unmistakable restraint.
He must’ve been desperate to be guided, that much was certain.
Just looking at his chapped lips and the bloodshot veins spreading around his eyes, it was obvious that his resonance state was at its worst.
Maybe he’d been the one who exerted the most strength handling the monster and cleaning up afterward.
…And still, his patience was astonishing. Something that left me shaking my head.
Even after that, Shim Tae-seong continued to treat him like he was fragile porcelain.
Back when he’d rescued him from Joo Cheong-gyeong and taken care of him, there had been a certain assertiveness to his actions. But now, he was so excessively cautious that it was stressful just to watch. Perhaps it was because he was doing everything in his power to avoid physical contact.
Worried he might harbor dangerous thoughts, Shim Tae-seong lingered near the bathroom whenever he bathed. During meals, he never allowed so much as a knife or fork near him.
He rarely spoke unless necessary, yet his eyes never left him. As long as they were in the same house, it felt like every single move he made was being monitored by Shim Tae-seong, whose nerves were likely strung taut the entire time.
Still, he made sure it didn’t feel suffocating. He left him alone when needed—like when he was resting in the bedroom or sitting blankly in the living room, basking in sunlight.
They were clearly inside the same house, but Shim Tae-seong somehow made himself disappear so completely, it was hard to tell where he was.
That kind of effort, that clear desperation not to cause further harm—it was so transparent, it made him want to laugh at times.
It wasn’t like Shim Tae-seong had nothing to say to him. Even if it wasn’t in his nature to voice blunt resentment, he could have at least shown some sign of hurt. But instead, he acted as if his own feelings didn’t matter in the slightest—and that brought a kind of twisted pleasure.
It made him realize he wasn’t really in any position to criticize Joo Cheong-gyeong for his perverse tendencies.
“Why…”
A faint note of confusion leaked into his voice.
He had assumed Shim Tae-seong would naturally harbor some resentment toward him, and yet, the man kept trying to comfort him.
Days had passed, and still, not even once had he taken his hand.
Surely, Shim Tae-seong’s time with him was limited as well.
Could it be that he truly didn’t want guiding? That his words weren’t just a kind lie?
He let that doubt slowly rise to the surface, lifting his gaze and parting his lips to speak.
“Why are you holding back?”
“…”
“You’re suffering right now, aren’t you?”
All of the S-ranks had been in a bad state, but if he had to rank them, Jang Hee-gang—who was well into middle age—had been the worst.
And yet, judging by Shim Tae-seong’s current symptoms, it was hard not to wonder if his condition might be even worse.
Not just the external signs—he had seen, more than once, the man furrowing his brows with a clouded gaze, as if struggling to stay conscious.
Every time that happened, he was forcibly reminded just how dire things were—and honestly, it made his heart skip a beat.
“Not as much as you, young master.”
Shim Tae-seong replied with stubborn sincerity.
His own voice trembled as he responded.
“But I told you—you could do what you wanted.”
“And I told you—I wouldn’t do that.”
The way Shim Tae-seong’s fist clenched tight was plainly visible. He nearly flinched.
“Then why did you bring me here?”
He asked, shaking his head.
“I don’t understand. If you don’t need guiding, if you’re not going to force me to do anything—then why did you bring me here in the first place?”
His breathing started to grow uneven.
“I don’t want to get my hopes up anymore… but if you keep comforting me like this, it’ll just hurt all over again.”
Tears welled up in his eyes, the kind of sorrow that only someone who’d gone through it once before—with his brother—could understand. Shim Tae-seong surely knew what kind of pain he meant.
“Please, just treat me the same way as the others.”
He wasn’t asking for understanding. He wasn’t asking to be consoled. He was asking for the wound to be reopened instead.
It would be easier, he thought, if Shim Tae-seong just used him for his own desires—twisted him to his will.
Quick recovery would seem unnatural anyway, so he let himself appear shaken by the man’s gentle demeanor. At the same time, he made it clear that Shim Tae-seong wasn’t the only one he was forcibly bound to.
He deliberately pressed on the sore spot—the very thing most likely to make Shim Tae-seong snap. Because provoking him, he believed, would be the fastest way to push him into accepting a guiding session.
