Hearing the news, Ho-eun rushed out immediately. Since Kim Se-hee had been admitted to the medical center at the Incheon branch for recovery through guiding, it didn’t take long to reach her if he ran.
Thanks to the training he’d done with Bae Yeon-woo, his running had improved to a surprisingly impressive degree compared to the past.
When Ho-eun arrived at the medical center, he scanned the lobby. The guiding center where Ryu Yoon-jae worked was unusually crowded today. Passing through the busy first-floor lobby, Ho-eun made his way up to the third-floor inpatient ward where Kim Se-hee had been admitted.
“Ho-eun!”
Ryu Yoon-jae, who had been standing in front of Room 311, greeted Ho-eun when he saw him. Dressed in his work uniform, he looked like he had just come up from his shift.
“She woke up about two hours ago, and the detailed tests just finished. Let’s go in together.”
His dress shirt clung to his back with sweat. It was because, on the way there, countless worst-case scenarios had raced through his mind. Since Kim Se-hee had gotten hurt largely because of him, he couldn’t help but feel anxious, terrified that something might have gone terribly wrong.
Ho-eun placed his hand on the hospital room door—so light it would open with a gentle push—and took a deep breath.
As the door opened, he saw Kim Se-hee sitting up against the bed, gazing out the window. The cherry blossom branch placed by the window was the same kind she used to handle during her internship guiding practice.
Actually, the blossoms looked a bit more in full bloom, which meant someone else must have brought it in.
“Se-hee?”
Kim Se-hee slowly turned her head at the sound of his voice.
“Are you here to visit me?”
Her complexion was paler than usual, but her voice was bright and cheerful. Just hearing her speak brought him relief. The anxiety that had been weighing down on Ho-eun finally began to ease.
“Did you hear the test results? How are you feeling? Were you dizzy when you woke up?”
As Ho-eun sat in the chair next to her and fired off questions without pause, Kim Se-hee and Ryu Yoon-jae stared at him blankly.
“Did you eat…? Is there something on my face?”
“It’s not that. Hehe. I’ve just never seen you this rattled before.”
Kim Se-hee smiled, her lips curling up playfully.
“You must’ve been really worried about me. But I feel fantastic.”
Her brown bobbed hair had grown down to her shoulders at some point. The breeze blowing in through the open window made her hair sway gently.
Tucking the strands behind her ear, Kim Se-hee’s eyes sparkled as she spoke.
“I feel like I’ve been reborn.”
Ho-eun had never been able to recognize the scent of cherry blossoms before, but now he was sure the fragrance floating in on the breeze had to be just that.
The cherry blossom branch in the glass jar swayed in the wind.
“After sleeping for nearly two days, it makes sense you’d feel that way.”
Still standing, Ryu Yoon-jae let out a sigh of relief and sat in the chair next to Ho-eun.
“I was shocked to realize today’s Monday.”
Kim Se-hee glanced at the calendar on the table.
“Did they catch the anti-government Esper who did this to me?”
At her question, Ho-eun pulled out his phone and told her to wait a moment.
Saturday, midnight. Nam Woon-soo had shared a report from Shin Eun-hye with the PR Department. The report included all records from that night. But that was it.
After that, an Esper affiliated with the Esper Corporation who could use portals had visited the scene, but as expected, they hadn’t been able to trace the anti-government portal route.
“They haven’t caught them yet. We’re also still trying to figure out why they tried to forcibly hijack your guiding that day.”
His voice grew quieter with each word. Even to himself, the whole situation felt pathetic. They were the PR Department, supposedly tasked with catching anti-government Espers—so what were they even doing?
“It’s not your fault, Ho-eun.”
Ryu Yoon-jae patted his shoulder. When he lifted his head, Kim Se-hee was also looking at him with a strong, reassuring expression.
“They say I passed out because I suddenly lost too much guiding. And according to the test results, my recovery’s going well—they even said I can be discharged starting tomorrow.”
Flexing her arm to show off her bicep, Kim Se-hee spoke with a determined look.
“See? The difference in recovery speed between high schoolers and adults is obvious, right?”
Trying to ease his worries by overacting, Kim Se-hee made Ho-eun’s nose tingle with emotion.
“Next time you need me, Se-hee, promise you’ll say something. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Really? Awesome! So I just earned a one-day slave pass, right?”
“Se-hee, maybe don’t call it a ‘slave pass.’ How about a one-day wish ticket?”
Listening to their exchange, Ryu Yoon-jae chimed in. Watching the two of them seriously debate how to make the most of Ho-eun was somehow heartwarming—it filled his chest with something soft and fuzzy.
“Either way’s fine with me!”
Ho-eun laughed out loud and draped his arms around their shoulders. If it weren’t for the fact they were in a hospital, it might’ve felt like they’d returned to those peaceful internship days.
Since Kim Se-hee still needed mental and physical rest, Ho-eun and Ryu Yoon-jae began wrapping up their conversation after checking her condition. Bidding farewell to the reluctant Se-hee, the two of them stepped out of the hospital room.
“Ho-eun, do you have a moment?”
As Ho-eun turned to head back to the dorm, Ryu Yoon-jae stopped him, and the two of them stepped outside the center. Behind the building was a small area with benches and a drink vending machine—clearly a spot frequented by center employees.
Ryu Yoon-jae tapped his ID on the machine, bought a drink, and handed it to Ho-eun.
“Thanks.”
The sound of two cans opening echoed in sync. As he drank the refreshing soda, Ho-eun replenished his parched throat.
“You look a little different than usual today.”
“I had to go to Esper Corp headquarters, so I dressed up a bit.”
He didn’t mention that Do In-ho had bought the outfit—didn’t want to come off like he was bragging.
“I see.”
“You’ve got something on your mind, don’t you?”
Ho-eun was the first to speak when Ryu Yoon-jae just fiddled with his can in silence.
“Ho-eun, have you ever been in a relationship?”
“…A relationship?”
Ryu Yoon-jae was staring down at the ground. His trembling lashes betrayed just how nervous he was.
“Haha. Honestly, even at this age, I’ve never properly been in one.”
“Oh…”
“So I was hoping to get a little advice…”
As he fumbled for words, Ryu Yoon-jae covered his face with his palm and let out a long sigh. Seeing how flustered he was, Ho-eun hesitated before responding.
“I’ve dated a few times, but I’m not sure I’ll be much help…”
“Really?!”
Ryu Yoon-jae looked at him with eyes full of hope. Seeing that earnest face, Ho-eun nodded.
“Thank you so much. I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about this—I’ve just been suffering in silence.”
“Is it unrequited love?”
“Embarrassing as it is… I think she might feel the same way.”
Ryu Yoon-jae’s cheeks flushed like a lovestruck girl as he moved his lips, and Ho-eun felt a flutter in his own chest just watching him.
“Is it Esper Kim Han-seul?”
“H-How did you know?!”
Ryu Yoon-jae crossed his arms over his chest like he was shielding himself.
“Have you been watching me this whole time or something?” he said, panicking.
“I heard you applied to the guiding center because you wanted to guide Kim Han-seul.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, that’s true. I wanted to be her partner guide, like you… but I guess I wasn’t good enough.”
According to his employee ID, Ryu Yoon-jae’s guiding grade was B. Among the three intern colleagues, it was the highest, but he hadn’t become her assigned guide due to mismatched resonance.
“I heard if I became a team guide, I could be around her… but doing it for selfish reasons just felt wrong.”
Having already crushed his now-empty can, Ho-eun quietly listened to Ryu Yoon-jae’s story.
“I could already see myself ignoring the other Espers and only focusing on Kim Han-seul. That’s not the kind of guide I want to be.”
Ryu Yoon-jae had always been the type to quietly do what needed to be done. It was hard to imagine him being biased toward one person.
“I’ve never felt like this before. Just being around her makes my heart twinge and race like I’ve had too much coffee—I can’t even sleep anymore because I keep thinking about her.”
He clutched his chest.
“When I see her choosing to get guided by me instead of another guide at the center, I start hoping… wondering if maybe she feels the same.”
Every time he said her name, his cheeks flushed pink—until suddenly, Ryu Yoon-jae’s expression darkened.
“But then I think, who would like a guy like me? I’m just some country bumpkin… and she’s from Seoul.”
“Since when does where you’re from matter? What counts is how you feel about each other.”
“Still… don’t women hate country guys?”
“They probably hate being told to give everything up and move to the countryside. But just being from the countryside? That’s not a dealbreaker.”
A glimmer of hope returned to Ryu Yoon-jae’s face.
“Really?”
“I don’t know what’s happened between you two, but if you think her heart’s aligned with yours, then believe in that.”
Ho-eun scratched his cheek. It felt like he was just spouting off generic advice that anyone could’ve given.
Sure, he had some relationship experience, but none of it was deep enough to make him a good counselor. He wasn’t sure his words were helping.
“I feel a little better now. Thanks, Ho-eun.”
Ryu Yoon-jae gulped down the rest of his drink. Crushing the can like Ho-eun had, he now looked visibly more relaxed.
“I should get back now. Mind if I come to you again sometime?”
“Anytime.”
Seeing Ryu Yoon-jae smile wide enough to show his dimples made Ho-eun smile back.
“Oh right. I almost forgot—there’s something I was supposed to tell you about Se-hee.”
Just as he turned to leave, Ryu Yoon-jae looked around to make sure no one was nearby and whispered.
“They say the first thing she did when she regained consciousness was cry… without saying a word.”
“She cried?”
“Yeah… They were worried it might be trauma-induced depression. But you saw her just now—she seemed like her usual self, right?”
“Still, we should keep an eye on her, just in case.”
“Even if she seems strong, she must’ve been really scared. She once told me she missed the days when we’d go to karaoke after school, take sticker photos, and eat tteokbokki. Maybe we should find time to do that with her again.”
“Good idea. It’d be a nice distraction for her too.”
Ho-eun looked up at the building. From the outside, all the third-floor windows looked the same—he couldn’t tell which was hers. The air felt heavy. As he thought about how she’d gotten hurt because of his mistake, guilt overwhelmed him. He clenched his fist and silently vowed:
I will catch Tiger. No matter what.
***
When he got home, for some reason, Do In-ho was lying in bed. Thinking he was asleep, Ho-eun quietly washed up, trying not to make a sound. As the final act of his day, he checked Do In-ho’s guiding percentage.
“What the… Why is it so low?”
Rubbing his eyes and double-checking, it still read 27%. Climbing into bed, Ho-eun reached for Do In-ho’s hand.
“Ho-eun hyung…”
Do In-ho, voice hoarse, opened his eyes and called out to him.
