It was Hosoo, dressed in a light pink jacket with matching pants. His gaze lingered on Ho-eun’s body, which showed no signs of injury or pain. As his eyes slowly trailed from the top of Ho-eun’s head down, unyielding in their scrutiny, Hosoo stepped closer.
He placed a hand on Ho-eun’s cheek, and instead of his usual sarcastic smirk, he let out a breath of relief.
“Thank goodness.”
Just as Ho-eun was about to be startled by the unexpected words—something that would never normally come out of Hosoo’s mouth—pain flared in his left cheek.
“Wha—huh…?”
“You punk. You should’ve regulated your guiding properly.”
“It hurts!”
“What’s the number one thing a guide needs to be best at in the field?”
“Guiding!”
Hosoo pinched Ho-eun’s right cheek as well, giving him a disappointed look.
“What were you even doing during theory class? Timing is everything.”
Do In-ho glanced anxiously at Ho-eun. Should I blast him away? His eyes seemed to be asking. Ho-eun quickly shook his head.
“There’s a hierarchy to timing too. First, knowing when to run. Second, knowing when to guide.”
“I’m sowwy…”
Ho-eun mumbled with a distorted expression, his cheeks still pinched. Only then did Hosoo let go.
“You missed the timing to run, and you messed up the timing to guide. That’s why you’re like this now.”
Hosoo placed the guide watch and a phone he’d brought next to the table.
“But even so, in the end, your judgment turned out to be right this time.”
Ho-eun took the phone Hosoo handed him. August 16th. The date of Do In-ho’s scheduled Ability Overload had already passed. Had they managed to prevent it?
“The second resonance measurement showed a 90% match in your wave patterns. With that level of sync, you should be able to keep preventing Do In-ho’s Overloads.”
Ho-eun closed his eyes. The day he first met Do In-ho. The day he rashly said he’d save him. The night they cooked and shared dinner. The moment their lips met. The countless memories passed through him like scenes from a movie, leaving him overwhelmed.
Do In-ho cautiously stood face-to-face with Ho-eun. When Ho-eun opened his eyes, the pumpkin-colored irises gleamed with a strange light—one that showed a renewed will to live.
“You two seem to have forgotten I’m here.”
Hosoo’s voice had a teasing tone, even though his words sounded like a scolding.
“Guiding drains energy. Break it up.”
If Hosoo hadn’t stepped in, they likely would’ve kept holding onto each other. At his words, they awkwardly separated.
“Kwon Ho-eun, do you realize it’s a miracle you even woke up after a month? We’ll need to run tests to know for sure, though.”
“I feel fine.”
“That’s your opinion. Upstairs only believes the numbers.”
With a gentle push from Hosoo, Ho-eun sat back down on the bed. The hospital room door opened again, and medical staff came in to begin examinations. He was taken from one testing room to another, almost as if they were scanning the entire hospital. After the physical exams, it was time for guiding tests.
“Uh, when can I eat…?”
“Fasting is required for these tests.”
Grrrgle. Ho-eun clutched his stomach dramatically like Edvard Munch’s The Scream as he trudged off to the guiding test room. Do In-ho, who had been by his side the entire time, sat in a waiting chair outside the room.
A little while later, Hosoo returned and sat down a seat apart.
“The punk named Kwon Ho-eun? What’s with you following him around like a lost puppy?”
“……”
“This is exactly why you shouldn’t be too nice to Espers. Do In-ho, you know it too. Kwon Ho-eun is a righteous guy. It’s rare to see someone like him among Guides.”
“I know.”
“Do you also know that even if it hadn’t been you, he’d have risked his life to guide anyone?”
“……”
“To him, you’re just one of the many Espers he’ll save.”
Veins bulged on the back of Do In-ho’s clenched fist. The fury that rose from deep within was about to explode, but he swallowed it down. His voice came out carefully composed.
“Regardless of who he saves, I’ll be the one by his side until the end.”
“…What?”
Do In-ho stared at the door of the testing room. Ho-eun was righteous. Incredibly responsible. Some might call it selfish, but Do In-ho had every intention of using that to his advantage.
“If you’re too kind to Espers, they end up like this. Look at those crazy eyes. You sure you haven’t joined some cult in the past month? Whatever. Just make sure you hold up your end of our deal.”
Finally, Hosoo got to the real reason he’d come. He pulled out a USB drive.
“CCTV footage from 63 Square has been fully tampered with. What’s on this USB is the last remaining original. I have no clue what those bastards were trying to do, pulling something like that.”
Hosoo lowered his voice. The USB contained footage of Ho-eun having blood drawn by a Tiger member. When he first heard the story from Do In-ho, he reviewed the entire video himself.
The odd part began when the S1 Guide signed a document with a Tiger member. Up until the signature, they’d refused direct guiding. But immediately after, the Tiger member grabbed their arm.
Moments later, the Tiger threw the Guide aside. There was no sound, so they couldn’t tell what had been said, but thanks to that, the Guide managed to escape.
Hosoo speculated that the S1’s guiding wasn’t high-level, while Ho-eun’s was S-Class. That’s likely why the blood was taken from Ho-eun instead.
“We’re going to investigate quietly to avoid alerting the higher-ups, so it’ll take some time.”
After that, Hosoo left.
***
In a dark, empty room, only a man’s mournful voice echoed. Combined with the rumble of his stomach, it was hard to tell whether this was a hospital room or a classroom right before lunch break.
“Pork belly, tteokbokki, sushi, spicy whelk salad, jokbal, chicken feet, ramen, grilled clams, eel, yukhoe, beef, udon, hamburgers…”
The unlit room looked even more depressing in the darkness. As if chanting a spell, Ho-eun continued reciting food names.
“Ho-eun hyung.”
The door opened, and the hallway light spilled into the dim hospital room. At the sound of crinkling plastic bags, Ho-eun sat up abruptly.
“Food!”
Having finished all the tests and gotten clearance to resume normal activities, Ho-eun was finally allowed to eat. He devoured the porridge Do In-ho brought as if it were a drink, then patted his stomach, now comfortably full.
“Huh?”
He scratched his cheek under Do In-ho’s quiet, lingering gaze. Since the moment he’d first opened his eyes, Do In-ho had been orbiting around him like a newly hatched duckling. At first, Ho-eun hadn’t paid much attention, overwhelmed by everything—but with that gaze locked on him for so long, it was hard to ignore.
Ho-eun had been in a coma for a month. It was said that the overdose from the Guide Ability Enhancer and the intense guiding to stop Do In-ho’s Overload had drained him.
Normally, guiding during an Overload would already burn a lot of energy—but Do In-ho, who had taken an Esper Enhancer as well, was essentially overloading twice.
External injuries had healed quickly thanks to a healing Esper, but guiding recovery wasn’t something abilities could help. Like Hosoo said, it was a miracle he woke up within a month. Today’s guiding test revealed that Ho-eun’s recovery speed was several times faster than average.
Ho-eun awkwardly patted Do In-ho’s head, then slowly withdrew his hand.
“Are you okay?”
He knew Espers could heal themselves. Even so, Ho-eun asked.
“…If I’m not okay… how—how will you… comfort me?”
“…!”
His voice sounded normal, but there was a childlike whine behind it.
“Pffft…”
It was unexpectedly amusing. Ho-eun chuckled, and to get used to this new Do In-ho, he spoke as if cooing to a child.
“Want me to pat your head? Or your shoulder?”
“……”
Do In-ho had always thought he was someone incapable of feeling emotions. But he’d been wrong. He simply hadn’t had anything in his life to spark those feelings. Day after day of monotony. Waiting for death. Then Ho-eun appeared.
Ho-eun threw paint onto his black-and-white world—blue, green, yellow. Emotions he’d never known started to color him.
When Ho-eun had been attacked by Tiger, all he felt was uncontrollable rage. When he lost consciousness, sorrow swallowed him whole, ripping his chest apart.
That pain couldn’t be healed, even with Esper powers. He couldn’t begin to guess how tattered he’d become inside. A fleeting worry passed—that if he showed weakness, Ho-eun might be disappointed. But he couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Please hold me.”
“…Okay.”
Ho-eun embraced him. The size difference made it look like Do In-ho was the one holding him, but still.
Feeling the warmth of Ho-eun’s breath and heartbeat, Do In-ho was overcome with relief. When he held Ho-eun, it felt like he owned all of him—from head to toe. That possessive feeling swelled uncontrollably, dark and intense.
“It’s late, but… I’m really glad you’re alive.”
Ho-eun wrapped both arms tightly around Do In-ho. He could hear his heartbeat. Do In-ho had chosen to live. Though today’s Do In-ho felt different than usual, Ho-eun thought he was starting to understand—this was just his way of expressing himself.
So this is what Do In-ho is like when he acts with purpose and feeling.
Before, he’d been like a corpse waiting to die. Now, he was like a ten-year-old—raw, emotional, hungry for affection. Ho-eun accepted it naturally.
Ho-eun didn’t believe his actions were 100% right. Someday, maybe Do In-ho would ask why he made him live. But for now, in this moment, none of that mattered. It was warm. That alone made the future irrelevant.
“Wanna sleep together?”
Like sharing a bed with a younger sibling, he moved inward to make space. Do In-ho, who’d assumed he’d be rejected, hesitated before slowly climbing in.
Ho-eun embraced him and gently patted his back. Do In-ho, whose body had grown but whose heart had missed out on affection, seemed stuck in childhood. As someone who’d promised to take responsibility, Ho-eun was ready to teach him everything.
The bed was huge—large enough for two adults to lie side by side without touching—but they stayed close. In his sleep, Ho-eun turned toward the open window, shivering at the early morning breeze, and burrowed into Do In-ho’s chest.
“Good night.”
Ho-eun fell into deep sleep, the sound of Do In-ho’s soft whisper fading.
The curtains swayed in the wind. Lying back with an arm tucked behind his head, Do In-ho gazed at Ho-eun’s peaceful sleeping face. Only then did the month-long cloud of anxiety finally lift from his heart.
“Ho-eun hyung… don’t go into a long sleep again.”
The moon, their only light, disappeared behind a cloud. The room darkened, as if the night was bidding the two of them sweet dreams.
