Nabin, his hands trembling as though grasping at a fleeting illusion, laid his small palm atop the large hand cupping his cheek. Warmth seeped through their joined touch, steadying his restless heart. He closed his eyes and gently rubbed his face against that comforting hand.
It was an innocent gesture, yet Hayan’s chest stirred with something dangerous—a sharp ache, born of the desire to draw closer the instant Nabin chose to trust him and let down his guard. That faint, orphanlike scent clinging to Nabin sank into him, as though it had stirred chaos deep within his heart.
“…Do I really exist here?”
As tears welled and dampened Hayan’s palm, Nabin opened his eyes and gazed up at him with a clear, unclouded look.
His irises, so pale they seemed translucent, glimmered like a rare jewel unearthed only after being buried in mud and worn down countless times. The light they cast sank into Hayan’s heart as deeply as that lonely scent.
“Yes. You exist—right here, before me.”
Hayan’s reply was dazed, but inwardly he repeated the truth to himself: this fragile being, who seemed liable to vanish like a dream, was here with him now.
Though he had never lost this person, grief soaked into him as if he were reliving a farewell he had already endured. He could barely contain it.
“Why… are you crying…?”
Perplexity filled Nabin’s eyes. His trembling hand brushed Hayan’s cheek with tender pity. Only then, through the warmth seeping into him, did Hayan realize he was crying.
He couldn’t even remember the last time tears had come—so long ago it felt like another life. And yet now, he couldn’t stop them.
“…I’m sorry.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them. Just imagining the agony Nabin must have suffered—cutting his own wrist without fear of death during the time when Hayan hadn’t been there—dragged his heart down into darkness.
Even if it had begun as a chance encounter, he had been the one to turn that chance into fate. He had given Nabin a treasured keepsake, yet said goodbye only in silence. That was his mistake.
He should have kept him close. He should have held him tight, refusing to let him slip away, not released a bond that had shaken him so profoundly.
If he had done so, perhaps Nabin wouldn’t have become someone sculpted by pain, forced to endure endless suffering. Bitter regret squeezed the breath from his chest. If it were possible, he would have borne all the anguish coiled in Nabin’s heart himself.
“I’ve always… been grateful, you know.”
The eyes that had widened at his apology curved into a smile, shining with sincerity. That simple smile unraveled Hayan completely. He clasped those small hands, pressed his forehead to them, and poured out his soul again, like a sinner confessing before God.
“I’m sorry… for leaving you alone.”
Nabin gave no reply. Only the shrinking of his tear-stained hands answered him. Hayan kissed the pale back of that hand and vowed in a steady, resolute voice:
“I’ll never leave you alone again. No matter what happens, I’ll always protect you.”
After his parents’ deaths, he had lived behind invisible walls, keeping himself a step removed from the world. With no particular purpose in life, his days had drifted by like water. To say he lived only because he couldn’t die might have sounded cruel, but it wasn’t wrong.
But now, he had someone he wanted to protect. Someone he wanted to make happy with all his heart.
In that low but resonant voice, as he promised Nabin he would always protect him, the stark white world around him suddenly burst into flight with countless violet butterflies.
***
Nabin now slept more than ever. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say he spent half his life in slumber. On the worst days, he slept the entire day through, leaving Hayan’s heart clenched with constant dread that something might be fatally wrong.
If not for Ryu Soh-an, who came daily to Hayan’s estate to treat Nabin, Hayan might have drowned in the terror that he would never again see those clear eyes open once Nabin drifted off.
“This is a positive sign.”
“You mean the longer sleeping hours?”
“Yes. Just like wounds form scabs to heal, Guide Kim Nabin’s mind is protecting itself through sleep—recovering from its injuries.”
“Even so, wouldn’t sleeping an entire day strain his body?”
“That’s true… but as his condition improves, his sleep time will naturally shorten. So please don’t worry too much.”
They spoke quietly at Nabin’s side. His head rested on Hayan’s lap, just as it often did—he would collapse into sudden sleep midway through treatment, as though fainting.
“And in fact, Guide Kim Nabin is recovering faster than expected. As long as he continues steady treatment, unless he’s forced into a situation that triggers his trauma, he won’t suffer violent breakdowns anymore.”
Nearly a month had passed since Ryu Soh-an had begun treating him. The Center Director had originally intended to announce Nabin’s rank officially just two weeks after placing him in Hayan’s care—eager to put him to use as a Center asset.
Simply declaring that an Immeasurable Guide had appeared in Korea would instantly elevate both the nation’s standing and the prestige of the K Ability User Center.
But Hayan, Ryu Soh-an, and Kim Su-hyun had stopped him. The united front of two S-rank Espers and one A-rank Esper was more than enough to force the Director to back down.
Anyone else might have been ignored—but all three held significant influence. Each had naturally gathered followers, and their reach within the Center was wide enough that even the Director couldn’t disregard them.
In the end, the Director had to promise to postpone all discussions about Nabin’s official status. Healing Espers, regardless of rank, were treated as precious—and A- or S-rank healers were priceless.
And Hayan himself, at the top of the S-rank combat Espers, was a foe no one wanted. Ability Users instinctively admired strength. Rather than envying their superiors, they idolized and followed them.
In battle, after all, the powerful were the ones who could save their lives. In that sense, it was akin to survival instinct.
And Hayan was famous even among S-ranks for his courtesy—he even spoke politely to lower-ranked Espers. The list of people whose lives he had saved was long enough to circle the Center itself.
Considering how eccentric most S-ranks were, his popularity was no mystery. Even the Director had been forced to swallow his own greed because of it.
Hayan had wrung from him a firm promise: until Nabin stabilized, his rank would not be announced, and no missions of any kind would be forced on him.
It had only been possible thanks to Ryu Soh-an and Kim Su-hyun’s support. Alone, Hayan knew the Director might have tried to push through by force.
Since then, Hayan had eased his guard toward the two, even allowing them to come and go from his estate freely for Nabin’s sake.
Eventually, another presence began accompanying Ryu Soh-an: Kim Su-hyun. After meeting Nabin once, he too had begun following out of concern for his condition.
But today, unusually, Ryu Soh-an had come alone. The moment he entered the mansion, he greeted Nabin briefly and went straight into treatment.
A few minutes in, Nabin’s eyelids drooped and his body slumped down. Instinctively, Hayan caught him, resting his head on his lap, pulling over a blanket to ward off the chill from his frail body.
With time, Nabin had grown used to treatment, far more at ease than the first day he had met Ryu Soh-an. As their conversation lulled, Ryu Soh-an lingered in silence, staring at Nabin in thought.
When he saw the faint smile lingering on Nabin’s lips, as if he could still feel Hayan’s hand stroking his hair even in sleep, an ache filled his chest. If Nabin was to keep recovering, there was something Hayan needed to know.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“What is it?”
Ryu Soh-an’s tone was unusually heavy, his face clouded and grim. Hayan immediately sensed the weight of what he was about to say.
“There are people in the Center who could reopen Guide Kim Nabin’s trauma.”
“Who are they?”
The gravity in Ryu Soh-an’s words sank into Hayan as well, his voice lowering to match. As far as he knew, the only people Nabin had ever met in the Center were himself, Ryu Soh-an, and Kim Su-hyun.
Kim Minsu, the man who had shackled Nabin with debt and dragged what should have been a brilliant life into the mud, had already fled to China.
