The faint light that had flickered in his eyes was extinguished once again.
“…Even if I die?”
“Yeah. Whether you live or die—what’s that got to do with me? To me, you’re nothing more than a Guide I call on when I need Guiding. Nothing more, nothing less.”
His lips, dry as he spoke of death, didn’t bother him in the slightest. That’s how much of a nuisance Lee Haru was to Yu Je-hyun.
“Guide Lee Haru tried to kill himself!”
“What?”
News of Lee Haru slitting his own wrist spread through the Association like wildfire.
It left him uneasy. There was a faint prickle of regret at how casually he’d responded when asked if it would be okay for the other to die.
He hadn’t considered that Lee Haru might have been driven to such a desperate point.
“Guide Lee Haru is going to be assigned as our team’s exclusive Guide for the next six months.”
But not long after, the regret soured into irritation and anger at the notice he received from Kang Min.
A Guide so desperate to be assigned to their team that he had risked his life in a suicide attempt to make it happen.
But… had he really intended to die? The Association staff had found him in time, and by then, the marks on his wrist had already vanished without a trace.
Accepting someone who had pulled a stunt like that just because the Espers he had marked wouldn’t accept Guidance from him? Even one of the world’s three Great Saints wouldn’t be able to welcome someone like that with open arms.
“Whew. Finally full.”
Yu Je-hyun pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he watched the man, who had polished off three plates stacked with food, finally lift a water glass nearly the size of his face.
“So? What was so urgent you had to come screaming up to the second floor?”
He wasn’t happy about the situation, but after observing for a while, it seemed better than before—better than the Lee Haru who used to shrink back in constant, excessive deference.
“I’m scared of the dark. At first, it was just my room where the lights wouldn’t come on. But while I was in the kitchen, a thunderstorm hit and the whole mansion lost power, so I didn’t really have a choice. And then I started hearing strange crying noises.”
Yu Je-hyun, arms folded, twitched his brow ever so slightly the moment Haru mentioned the crying.
“You must’ve been hearing things.”
“I’m serious. I really heard it.”
“Did anyone else?”
“It only happens when I’m alone…”
It was bizarre. Now that he was with Yu Je-hyun, the sobbing sounds that had tormented him relentlessly had vanished as if they’d never existed.
“Then you definitely misheard.”
“That can’t be right…”
He might’ve agreed with Yu Je-hyun’s conclusion—if he had ever experienced auditory hallucinations. Sure, he feared ghosts, but he had never actually seen one or heard anything supernatural himself.
It was all just aftereffects of watching horror movies—information etched deep into his brain, branching off into wild, irrational fantasies.
As he talked it through, Lee Haru started to wonder if it really had all been in his head.
“You’ve got a mental illness.”
“…What?”
The cold, emotionless voice scraped across his eardrums without warning. Slowly, Lee Haru raised his head.
Their eyes locked immediately, as if Yu Je-hyun had been staring at him the whole time. His lips sealed shut.
Even in the dark, Yu Je-hyun’s eyes were sharp—filled with unmistakable contempt.
“No sane person—especially an S-Class Guide—would slit his wrists just to get assigned to our team. Am I wrong?”
Round and round—it was a vicious cycle.
At that moment, Haru realized that Yu Je-hyun’s view of him had already calcified into something irreversibly negative.
His gaze drifted down to his wrist, now completely healed. He could still clearly remember waking up in this place, his pale wrist soaked in blood.
If it hadn’t been for the recovery potion, the injury would’ve required major surgery. The wound had been brutal.
“…It’s not like people just lose their minds on their own, is it?”
“What?”
Even the fragmented memories Haru could recall made it obvious—he had never lived a happy life.
Suppose, just for a moment, that Yu Je-hyun was right and Haru was mentally ill.
Then who had made him that way?
How much suffering would it take for someone to slash their own wrists so mercilessly? Just trying to imagine it made his chest tighten.
No matter how rough things had been for Yu Je-hyun, it wasn’t something he had ever even attempted.
Flick—
“The power’s back.”
The lights returned at just the right moment. Haru stood up first, collecting the plates strewn across the table and bringing them to the sink.
“Thanks for showing me where the utensils are.”
Just as Haru was about to microwave more food and eat it with his hands, Yu Je-hyun stopped him.
He scanned Haru like he was examining something filthy, then opened a drawer. Inside were neatly organized utensils, and Haru let out a small sound of amazement.
“It’s okay if I keep eating the stuff in the fridge, right? I’ll restock whatever I use.”
Yu Je-hyun didn’t say a word, even as Haru helped himself to several more items from the refrigerator.
He had no manners, but at least he wasn’t petty about food. That was something, if nothing else.
Ignoring the gaze boring into his back, Lee Haru quietly started washing the dishes he had used. With no rubber gloves in sight, he rinsed everything by hand. Only after he’d wiped away every drop of water on the sink did he finally turn around.
“Good night.”
Before stepping out of the kitchen, he gave a polite nod to Yu Je-hyun, who was still watching him intently.
He hesitated for a moment when he saw the pitch-dark hallway, but guided by the soft red glow coming from the living room, he made his way forward.
The rain had tapered off at some point too.
“Huh… the bathroom light works.”
The light in the bathroom across from the bedroom flicked on the moment he hit the switch. Just in case, he tried the bedroom light too, but it was no use—the thing was definitely broken.
“They’ve even stocked the basics.”
Truthfully, the bedroom wasn’t completely empty. Though covered in thick layers of dust, it still had a bed and a wardrobe.
The bathroom was the same. He rummaged through the cabinet, found a fresh toothbrush and toothpaste, and brushed his teeth.
The face staring back at him in the mirror looked drained. Pale, with stark contrasts of black and white, his features had more life now than they had in his ID photo.
He raised one eyebrow on purpose and tried to make a threatening face. But with his mouth full of white foam, he looked more adorable than menacing.
After rinsing out his mouth, he went ahead and splashed water on his face too. He thought briefly about showering but decided to leave it for later.
Now that the fear had finally ebbed, the sleepiness he had lost came crashing back all at once.
Instead of going into the pitch-black bedroom, Lee Haru headed for the living room. He was still anxious that the crying sounds might return at any moment.
It felt safer to fall asleep somewhere with the lights on.
Besides, the bedroom didn’t even have a blanket or pillow. Whether he slept there or on the sofa made no real difference.
The couch was nearly the size of a single bed anyway, and with its thick, plush cushions, it actually looked more comfortable than the bed.
“Yaaawn…”
The moment he stretched out across the sofa, a yawn slipped out. He wiped away the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes and let his head sink into a cushion.
In the stillness, only the sound of his steady breathing began to fill the room.
“…Seriously, is he not right in the head?”
A shadow approached the deeply sleeping Lee Haru.
Yu Je-hyun, left behind mid-conversation and brushed off like he didn’t exist, had turned to strong liquor to smother his irritation.
One drink disappeared, then another—and just as the alcohol began to work its way through him, Lee Haru emerged from the hallway.
Apparently unaware of Yu Je-hyun’s presence in the dining room, he stumbled toward the sofa, eyes half-closed, face still damp.
He moved with practiced ease, setting a cushion neatly at the edge of the couch before lying down.
Why was he sleeping out here when there was a perfectly functional bed? Yu Je-hyun found himself moving closer, trying to check if the guy was actually asleep. Even that felt strange.
“You’re soaking the thing.”
His freshly washed face was still wet, and now the cushion beneath him had gone dark with moisture. He hadn’t even bothered to towel off.
Yu Je-hyun let out a long, slow sigh. For the first time in his life, he felt like he was staring at a problem with no obvious solution. Until now, he had never once resented the easy, convenient life he had led.
But ever since that suicide attempt, Lee Haru had returned as someone completely different. Yu Je-hyun couldn’t shake the feeling that this formerly quiet mansion—once silent even with multiple people living in it—was about to be thrown into chaos.
And that hunch proved to be dead-on.
***
“Why’s he sleeping out here?”
“How the hell should I know?”
Hong Seong-jun squinted blearily as he came downstairs for a drink of water. Yu Je-hyun, who had somehow ended up watching over Lee Haru all night, snapped back gruffly.
He had already beaten Hong Seong-jun to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, drained it in one go, and crushed the empty bottle in one hand.
“Hyung, did you stay up all night? Don’t tell me… with Guide Lee Haru?”
Hong Seong-jun’s eyes narrowed in a calculating way. His gaze flicked between Yu Je-hyun and Haru, searching for clues, sharp with curiosity.
