Chapter 14
“Oppa. People will come to take us away tomorrow.”
Yeonhwa casually remarked while spreading strawberry jam on bread that was half burnt, half undercooked. At her words, Yeonwoo grabbed a small bag and went into the messy room. Yeonwoo didn’t have many possessions to begin with. Most of them had been taken by their parents, so there wasn’t much to pack, but that wasn’t the case with Yeonhwa’s belongings.
The next morning, when people from the Esper Association knocked on the door, Yeonwoo was waiting with a small bag while Yeonhwa clutched her sketchbook tightly as they stood by the door.
After confirming Yeonhwa’s ability, the association people took her away without even giving Yeonwoo time to hand her the bag. Left behind, Yeonwoo underwent testing alone and entered the military academy. The only consolation was knowing that he would attend the same school as Yeonhwa.
“Hey. Is your sister really that amazing?”
“Yeah. She is.”
Fiddling with a mana ball slightly larger than his fist, Yeonwoo nodded meekly at the sarcastic remark. As he smiled, folding his big eyes in half, the child who had approached to pick a fight sat down heavily beside him, at a loss for words.
“But why are you C-class? Your sister is S-class, right?”
The commotion that followed when Yeonwoo and Yeonhwa arrived at the association made life even more difficult for the already struggling students at the military academy.
Regardless of rank, the moment they awakened, children believed they were special and extraordinary. But as soon as they entered the association, they quickly realized their place.
They entered the military academy with small hopes of “maybe, just maybe,” but soon had to abandon even those hopes. The children despaired at no longer being special, became miserable as they faced discrimination based on the size of their mana cores.
Yeonwoo should have been the same.
He should have been in despair at not being special, walking around with a dejected, resigned expression. But Yeonwoo didn’t cry or call for his parents every night. Instead, he sought out crying children and comforted them.
The teachers, who barely showed up once a day, would point at Yeonwoo whenever children cried after failing a test.
“All of you be quiet and look at Yeonwoo. See how mature he is. Does crying solve anything? Have you even practiced? Please stop troubling your teacher, okay?”
That’s why they wanted to bully Yeonwoo.
Because they were both low-ranked, because they both had insignificant abilities. They wouldn’t feel satisfied until they saw him struggling the same way they did, until they saw him on the verge of tears.
“Um… but do you know how to do this?”
The child looked bewildered at the mana ball Yeonwoo suddenly held out. He couldn’t understand why Yeonwoo kept grinning when he couldn’t even handle the most basic mana ball.
“I asked the teacher, and they said you’re the best at handling mana in the Auxiliary class.”
“Huh… me? The teacher said that? Really?”
“Yeah.”
Yeonwoo nodded and discreetly moved closer, covering his mouth. The child leaned in to hear his small whispered voice.
“They don’t teach us anything, so I know I should be doing something… but I don’t know what to do.”
The child unconsciously nodded at those words. It was exactly what he had thought when he first entered the military academy.
“The teachers don’t teach us anything.”
The child nodded enthusiastically as Yeonwoo’s voice grew smaller. The few teachers focused on the advanced classes and paid just enough attention to the lower classes to avoid accusations of neglect.
The child had struggled so much because of this. He needed to learn something in order to practice, but each time he was tested, he was scolded for still not being able to do such simple things, and nothing could be more heartbreaking.
“Won’t you teach me?”
When Yeonwoo asked with drooping eyebrows, the child nodded. Instead of shouting that he had figured it out on his own and Yeonwoo should do the same, he grabbed Yeonwoo’s hand.
This was the first time since entering the military academy that someone had asked him for help. And it was Han Yeonwoo, brother of Han Yeonhwa who had caused such a stir at the academy, Yeonwoo who received praise from the teachers. He felt his chest might burst with pride at feeling special again.
“Thank you.”
“Ah… well, no, I mean, yes. This is how you do it…”
Rubbing his reddened neck, the child looked at Yeonwoo holding the mana ball and began teaching enthusiastically.
Watching him, Yeonwoo smiled brightly.
Though things had been different for the past three years, Yeonwoo’s family hadn’t been well-off.
His father went on business trips even on weekends, and his mother worked part-time at a cafe near their home. Whenever the cafe called, his mother would take Yeonwoo and Yeonhwa by the hand and knock on the neighbors’ doors.
“What? Those kids again?”
“What can we do? We can’t just turn them away.”
“So shameless… they should at least send them to daycare.”
“They say they barely have enough to eat, so how could they afford that?”
Every time Yeonwoo heard the adults whispering while he and Yeonhwa sat there, he would stretch out his arms to cover Yeonhwa’s ears. Then he would pretend not to know anything, smile, and help the adults with their tasks. They would be less harsh if they weren’t disliked.
He had to befriend the children in those homes too. That way, the children would insist on playing longer and keep him there.
Living like that, he couldn’t help but develop a sharp sense for reading people.
He was just a 12-year-old Esper. Their desires were plainly visible in their words and actions. Going along with such childish games was as easy as eating cold rice.
“Should we practice together tomorrow too?”
“Yes.”
After waving goodbye, Yeonwoo immediately ran to the Mental class. Standing on tiptoe to look inside, he saw Yeonhwa lying on her stomach in a corner, scribbling drawings. She suddenly looked up, hugged her sketchbook, and came plodding out.
“Why so down again? Is it because you couldn’t make friends today?”
“Yeah… I just kept drawing all day. My arm hurts.”
Yeonwoo massaged Yeonhwa’s wrist as she responded gloomily, then looked around the classroom. Every chair in the room was positioned to face Yeonhwa. In this situation, anyone would have trouble approaching her.
Yeonwoo consoled Yeonhwa, saying it was just the beginning and things would get better with time, but that wasn’t the case. As time passed, Yeonhwa retreated further and further into corners.
When she couldn’t retreat any further, Yeonhwa began drawing pictures and arranging them in a circle around her. It became a habit after she realized everyone valued the pictures she drew. It was her way of preventing anyone from approaching her.
Leaning at the entrance of the training ground, Yeonwoo looked at the raised nest and Chahun sitting inside it.
He had been wondering why he kept thinking of Yeonhwa…
Kang Chahun’s current situation was quite similar to Yeonhwa’s childhood. Just as Chahun was rejected in Zone A, Yeonhwa had been rejected in the Mental class.
The advanced class wasn’t much different. Each time students failed a test, instead of gently explaining what they lacked, the teachers would point to Yeonhwa. “Even this child can do it!” they’d say, scolding and constantly comparing.
Naturally ostracized, whenever Yeonwoo came to pick up Yeonhwa, unlike the other children who sat huddled together, Yeonhwa would always be sitting alone in a corner before spotting Yeonwoo and running to him.
“Why are you so late?”
Yes, just like that.
Well, Yeonhwa was ostracized for being too skilled, while Kang Chahun… probably because of his personality.
But more importantly, what did he mean by asking why he was late? Yeonwoo turned his head to look at the clock. He had rushed over as soon as he woke up this morning. Just to avoid being scolded like this.
At least our Yeonhwa was cute… Clicking his tongue inwardly, Yeonwoo stretched and looked around the training ground.
The training ground was becoming increasingly chaotic. He had nearly tripped over scattered training tools more than once. Even though people cleaned up, others would just make a mess again, so even those who used to tidy up had given up. Since the only punishment for making a mess was cleaning the Center, some Espers expressed their dissatisfaction with the training methods in this way.
Espers who wanted different training methods tacitly agreed, and both Choi Dongwon and Park Seohyun had urged others not to clean up, so only Yeonwoo was suffering. Swallowing a sigh, Yeonwoo pushed the training tools away with his foot to clear some space.
Meanwhile, Chahun had quietly approached and was eyeing the training tools that Yeonwoo had pushed aside. He had been curiously looking at training tools that didn’t fit him every time, but strangely today he showed interest in attack-type tools. Perhaps having learned from last time, he was only observing with his eyes rather than touching. Watching Chahun, Yeonwoo turned his head to look at the CCTV.
If this guy gets hurt, they’ll blame me.
He would have interfered even without the CCTV. Every time he saw Chahun carelessly handling training tools, it felt like watching a toddler taking its first steps on thin ice that was about to break.
“What is this?”
“Put it down. That’s a defensive item too.”
At those words, Chahun pushed the item behind his back.
Every morning, or whenever Yeonwoo was training individually after regular training, Chahun would quietly approach and ask what this or that was. Each time, Yeonwoo would explain what everything was.
It was a rule Chahun had set for himself.
“What about this?”
“That’s a training mana ball, but—”
Before he could finish, Chahun withdrew his hand and looked up at the empty air. After glaring at the emptiness, he kicked the mana ball that had fallen at his feet. Watching the mana ball roll far away, Yeonwoo scratched his eyebrow.
It seems the previous incident had become a trauma for him.
“Come over here.”
If he made a mistake out of ignorance, he just needed to learn.
Tapping the spot next to him, Chahun came over, pushing the training tools with his foot just as Yeonwoo had done.
“You put mana in here.”
As he was about to continue explaining, Chahun was staring at Yeonwoo with raised eyebrows.
“And then?”
You little…
If he causes a fuss whether you teach him or not, wouldn’t it be better not to teach him and keep your peace of mind? Smiling brightly, Yeonwoo threw the mana ball far away.
Then Chahun grabbed Yeonwoo’s training uniform.
“Why did you throw it away in the middle of teaching me?”
Yeonwoo looked at Chahun, who had an expression of incomprehension, and smiled innocently.
Was that… the attitude of someone receiving a lesson? Unable to believe it, he could only laugh, but Chahun reached out and held up a slime ball instead of a mana ball.
“That’s a slime ball.”
“Oh.”
With no suitable mana ball nearby, Yeonwoo tried to get up but couldn’t move.
“What is it?”
“Let me go for a second so I can get a mana ball.”
Strong fingers too. As he stood up, Chahun followed, pointing to a mana ball. When Yeonwoo nodded that it was the right one as Chahun held it up, Chahun thrust his hand out.
“How do you put it in?”
Oh, military academy teachers.
You should at least teach them this much before sending them out. Biting the tip of his tongue, Yeonwoo took the mana ball. The moment he poured mana into it, Chahun’s pupils turned green as he watched the mana ball.
Seeing his wide eyes, Yeonwoo pressed his forehead.
He had expected this, but he didn’t think Chahun would know so little.
“Can I have your hand?”
At those words, Chahun placed his hand on top of Yeonwoo’s. Feeling the invariable soft touch, Yeonwoo blinked drowsily and gathered his mana.
“Do you know what a cotton candy machine is?”
“Yes.”
“Then imagine that cotton candy machine is attached to your heart. Just as the cotton candy machine spins out sugar threads, you draw out mana from your mana core.”
After finishing his explanation, Yeonwoo drew out his mana and rolled it in his palm as if to say, “Try it.” Chahun blinked as he felt the fluffy mana. Yeonwoo then poured the mana into the mana ball he was holding in his other hand. The mana ball, now filled with mana, began to glow a bright green.
“You try.”
When Yeonwoo tossed him an empty mana ball, Chahun glared at it with a scowl. Wary of the empty air, Yeonwoo looked at Chahun, drawn by a magnetic pull.
The mana ball in Chahun’s hand was rippling in a strange way. As their eyes met in Chahun’s panic—
“Oh.”
With a loud bang that filled the training ground, the mana ball burst, sending a cold wind that tousled Yeonwoo’s hair.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
