Whenever Kwon Ho-eun looked into Do In-ho’s eyes, his once-calm heart began to race wildly.
When he listened to the pounding rhythm of his own heartbeat—thump, thump—it almost felt like the entire world had vanished, leaving only the two of them behind.
“If it’s you, hyung, I’m okay with everything.”
In-ho’s eyes swirled with unspoken emotion. But when Ho-eun gazed into them too intently, those feelings quickly sank beneath the surface, as if not wanting to be seen.
“Get out.”
Ho-eun unbuckled In-ho’s seatbelt and stepped out of the passenger seat. With a sharp, angry stride, he rounded the car to the driver’s side and motioned for In-ho to get out.
In-ho, who could’ve easily resisted if he’d wanted to, quietly obeyed this time.
“Get in.”
Ho-eun even opened the passenger door for him. After making sure In-ho was seated, he took the driver’s seat, buckled in, and shifted the gear.
The car began gliding smoothly onto the road.
“Stop staring at my face and look out the window.”
In-ho, who had been silently watching Ho-eun’s tense profile, turned his gaze toward the window at Ho-eun’s prompting.
As the car sped through the fading daylight, the sunset painted the sky in hues of orange. The boundary between night and day shimmered—a canvas of warm tones giving way to darkness.
With an indifferent gaze, In-ho watched the scenery blur past, only to turn his attention to Ho-eun’s reflection in the window. At first, he’d snuck glances at him like a man uncertain, but ever since grabbing the steering wheel, Ho-eun had stared straight ahead.
……
A faint ache lingered in his chest—maybe the aftereffects of the enhancer still hadn’t worn off. Do In-ho didn’t know when, or if, he’d ever get used to this unfamiliar pain.
The car, once racing down the road, gradually slowed. In-ho noticed the sound of crashing waves in the distance and realized they were near the sea.
Ho-eun parked by the roadside and got out without a word.
Watching him head toward the beach, In-ho quietly followed.
There was a swing bench positioned perfectly for watching the ocean. Ho-eun took a seat and called to him.
“Aren’t you curious why I brought you here?”
“I am.”
“I lied. But so did you.”
……
“Thought maybe… just maybe, the ocean would make us want to be honest.”
The sea roared as if it might rush in at any moment and swallow them whole.
Watching the waves crash white and then disappear, it felt like no matter what he said here, the ocean would take it all in.
“You probably noticed too… I had plenty of chances to tell you about what was going on. I chose not to.”
A cold sea breeze brushed past them. Hair tousled in the wind, Ho-eun spoke evenly.
“At first, I thought I lied because I was afraid you’d say something hurtful. You’d definitely worry if I told you I was filming, and I didn’t want to see you like that.”
……
“But when I really thought about it, I realized I wasn’t doing it for you. I did it for me. I couldn’t do anything useful at 63 Square or in the Civil Complaints Division, so this was the only thing I felt I could do. It was selfish. Nothing more.”
……
“I wanted results—something, anything. I didn’t want to be just another useless Guide.”
That last sentence was heavy with loneliness. Ho-eun, who had been speaking so freely, paused. His lips opened, closed, then finally settled into resolve.
“A Guide’s job is just to do Guiding, right? But I didn’t want to be that kind of Guide. I wanted to prove there was something only I could do. And because of that, I lied to you… even knowing you’d be disappointed, even if you got mad.”
“…How could I ever get mad at you, hyung?”
Before Ho-eun could say anything else, In-ho gently took his cold hand in both of his, warming it with his own.
“You’re allowed to be.”
Ho-eun’s voice sounded fragile, but inside it was firm—unyielding. That’s why it left a lasting imprint on the listener, like a warm brand against the chest.
In-ho’s gaze slowly drifted from the sea back to Ho-eun. With everything he’d wanted to say finally spoken, Ho-eun’s expression was filled with relief, a lightness that made his face seem almost flushed.
Seeing that brought a stirring to the weight lodged in In-ho’s chest.
Can I really do that? Can I really show him the ugly parts I’ve buried so deep inside? What if it scares him off? What if he runs away?
Ho-eun’s heart was as clear as a glass bottle—transparent and easy to read. But his own… was cloudy, like an opaque jar filled with something no one wanted to see. Was it okay to show that to someone like Ho-eun?
“In-ho. I’m okay. Whatever you want to say, I’m ready to listen.”
Ho-eun’s voice, arriving on the wind with the sound of crashing waves, broke down the walls In-ho had built around his heart.
Even walls that had withstood countless tempests crumbled in an instant—just from Ho-eun saying his name.
“…I—”
The sand that sparkled earlier under the sun was now dull, dimmed beneath the shadow of dusk.
“I want to stay by your side. That’s why I thought… whatever you did, it’d be okay.”
After a long silence, In-ho finally spoke.
He’d known from the start that Ho-eun was lying. The tracking pendant had pointed to a different location, not home. But instead of blaming Ho-eun for not confessing, he blamed himself—for creating a space where the truth couldn’t be spoken.
He’d lived the last ten years without thinking. Life didn’t need thought. All he ever did was count the days until his predicted Ability Overload date.
He was twenty the year the Association finally decided to let him go outside—probably figuring he had no fight left in him. They stopped restricting him to the base, except for mission days.
Even so, after five years of confinement, he had nowhere to go.
So he went back to the last place he remembered—the tonkatsu shop.
Maybe it was because that had been the first place he’d gone after becoming like this.
He stood across the street, peering through the glass like always.
It became routine. And eventually, he couldn’t tell if the memory of that boy in the shop had been real… or something he’d made up.
Who am I even waiting for?
The answer to that question became harder to find as time passed.
No one ever came. It started to feel like he was clinging to a dream.
Then, one day, he met Kwon Ho-eun. And he thought—what a strange guy. Who asks a total stranger if they want tonkatsu?
But that question—oddly enough—stirred something. It reminded him of that boy from his memory, stirring a long-forgotten longing.
Ho-eun wasn’t the same person. He was a Guide. He had Guiding. But there was a weird sense of déjà vu that he couldn’t shake.
Then he ran into Ho-eun again at the Incheon branch. Just two days later.
And the weird guy was still weird. Overly kind. Too righteous. Always showing up in his business.
To Do In-ho, Kwon Ho-eun was an absolute mystery. He was so close to freedom. Just a bit more and he’d be done with it all.
So maybe, when Ho-eun appeared, some part of him had gotten scared. Like this man was going to reroute a life that had finally found an end.
Then came the 63 Square incident.
After completing the mission, In-ho downed an Esper enhancer and thought—this is it. It’s all over.
As long as he took the anti-government faction with him… or lost control along with them… it’d all be over.
But even as the end neared, he didn’t feel free. And when he saw Ho-eun appear in front of him—he finally understood why.
He didn’t want it to end. He wanted to stay with Ho-eun longer. To share dinner with him. To go to that dessert shop he mentioned and try his favorite. To share daily life, one day at a time.
A dream like that wasn’t meant for someone with a Crystal Implant. But he dreamed it anyway.
Ho-eun’s direct Guiding had stopped his Overload. Like broken puzzle pieces falling into place, he suddenly remembered—why he’d gone to that tonkatsu shop.
“If something ever happens… go back to that place from earlier.”
A school-uniformed boy with a soft face had said that with a pinky promise.
Too much time had passed. Maybe that boy had come to the shop to see him again. Maybe not. But even without remembering, his body had gone there—trying to keep that promise.
It had taken a long time, but they did reunite in front of that shop. Even if they hadn’t recognized each other in that moment.
In the 63 Square incident, Ho-eun had stopped the rampage with a kiss—just like their second promise.
There might still be a risk of Ability Overload in the future. But for In-ho, he had found a new kind of freedom. Not one that led to death— But one that meant living with Kwon Ho-eun.
But Ho-eun had collapsed at 63 Square. And hadn’t woken up for an entire month.
“When you… were unconscious because of me.”
Recalling that moment, In-ho frowned.
“I always wished the days would pass quickly. But during that time… I just wanted time to slow down. Even if it took forever… I just wanted that day to be the one where you’d open your eyes.”
He had lingered around Ho-eun’s hospital bed, cursing and blaming himself.
It’s my fault. I took too much from him. That’s why he won’t wake up. I ruined it. If only I were the one unconscious instead.
Dark thoughts ate away at his mind. Self-loathing consumed him.
He began using his power recklessly—hoping he’d Overload again. Maybe then, Ho-eun would come save him. Or maybe it’d be better if the man who’d put Ho-eun in that coma just disappeared.
The one who stopped him was Hosoo.
“You’re not allowed to die without Kwon Ho-eun’s permission, remember?”
That one sharp line from Hosoo snapped him out of it.
This was the body Ho-eun had saved. He had to live for him now. He couldn’t do anything Ho-eun would hate.
He slowly reached that conclusion.
So he stopped lingering in the hospital. Instead, he waited in other ways.
He bought cookbooks. Studied dishes, so they could eat dinner together. Tried to fix his chronic stuttering, so he could talk more easily with Ho-eun. Even studied human relationships—how to build them, how to maintain them.
Day by day, In-ho endured—for Ho-eun.
And at long last, he got to see him again. Awake. Alive.
Together.
