2) A Clue (1/3)
“How are you feeling, Esper Sung Cha-hyeon?”
“Good. Better than ever.”
With a half-vacant look, Ji Se-min stood behind them and watched as Cha-hyeon spoke with the attending physician.
Before the amnesia came to light, Cha-hyeon’s diagnosis had been chronic guiding deficiency. It hadn’t warranted a long hospital stay to begin with, and even after the amnesia was discovered, he refused further hospitalization, so the discharge process moved forward naturally.
On top of that, the Secretary-General had personally passed along news of a short leave for Cha-hyeon and the consideration that he wouldn’t have to participate in gate raids for a while. Since he wasn’t even ill, there was no reason for him to remain in the hospital.
“Your wave pattern is very stable. It’s far from the danger threshold now.”
The doctor nodded at the graph on the monitor. Even to the non-expert Se-min, it was obvious the once needle-like spikes had smoothed out. Remembering the close-contact guiding done at the hospital, his head drooped a little lower. The rim of his exposed ear was flushed.
It was common knowledge that Cha-hyeon had been relying on booster ampoules and getting the kind of guiding you’d call child’s play. Yet in a few short days, his wave pattern had changed this visibly?
Ordinarily, anyone would have drawn conclusions about what must’ve happened in the meantime, but the doctor simply smiled faintly, betraying nothing. Se-min decided he’d avoid meeting her eyes until they left the consultation room.
“It would be nice if the numbers dropped a bit more, but even maintaining this level keeps you in the safe zone. As you cut back on booster ampoules, keep working with your pair to find guiding methods that suit you.”
For all his efforts to ignore the exchange, Se-min could feel Cha-hyeon’s ardent gaze on him again—enough to make his crown tingle.
“Alright then… let’s move on.”
Taking her hand off the mouse, the doctor laced her fingers together. Cha-hyeon, who’d been aiming a sly look at Se-min, shifted his eyes back to her.
“Do you still have no returning memories regarding Pair Guide Ji Se-min?”
“Mm…”
Letting out a noncommittal sound, Cha-hyeon pressed a little tension into the corners of his mouth. A small dimple showed in his cheek as he spoke with a touch of regret.
“No. None at all.”
“I see. Mm… Usually, lost memories return gradually with time, but steady stimulation helps. For example, hearing old stories about you and Guide Ji Se-min, or visiting places you used to frequent.”
“Aha.”
It was hard to tell whether he was truly engaged, but to the eye at least, Cha-hyeon nodded with apparent seriousness.
“It’s important to keep stress low. You’ve heard the saying, ‘a healthy body makes for a healthy mind,’ right? If you keep up the guiding and maintain a physical condition like today’s, there may come a moment when your memories return.”
As if he liked the sound of that, Cha-hyeon’s gaze brushed over Se-min again. With his head lowered even further, at this point almost only the whorl of his crown and his reddened ear rim were visible.
“There haven’t been any cases reported to the academy of amnesia about a specific person as a dungeon gate side effect. I’ll keep looking for similar cases, so please don’t worry too much, Esper Sung Cha-hyeon.”
Cha-hyeon only smiled quietly—the kind of smile that seemed to swallow the words, I’m not worried at all. Too worn down to treat every patient with heartfelt sincerity, the doctor gave one mechanical smile, then turned to Se-min.
“Guide Ji Se-min?”
“…Yes?”
Standing behind Cha-hyeon like a totem pole, Se-min snapped his head up. In a slightly gentler tone, the doctor continued.
“As I said, for things like sharing old stories or visiting familiar places, cooperation from Guide Ji Se-min is important. I understand you two live together; in daily life, please talk about whatever might help Esper Sung Cha-hyeon’s memory come back.”
“Okay…”
“And try not to get too anxious. If you’re struggling emotionally and would like support, you’re welcome to come in anytime for counseling.”
With the instruction to return immediately if Cha-hyeon’s memories resurfaced or any physical abnormality appeared, the consultation ended.
The discharge went quickly. One perk of a VIP room was not having to wait in line with a crowd at the billing desk.
While Se-min handled the paperwork separately, his pair Esper finished packing his things.
Once he changed from the slightly incongruous hospital gown into street clothes, his complexion looked bright—like someone who’d never been ill a day in his life.
“Shall… we go?”
“Yeah. Let’s.”
Even in the chaos, he’d slung over his shoulder the duffel bag Se-min had grabbed on-site, and now he held out his hand. Se-min looked down, nonplussed, at the callused palm. He wasn’t showing it off, so why stick it out all of a sudden?
His question was answered at once by Cha-hyeon’s brazen reply.
“Hyung doesn’t know the way to our place.”
“Ah… that’s one of the things you don’t remember, huh.”
Se-min muttered, his voice as dazed as his eyes. By the standard of “situations centered on Ji Se-min,” it seemed the home they shared had fallen into the erased zone as well.
Well, that tracked. The place they lived now was where they’d moved after Grandma passed away. If, when he bought the building, Cha-hyeon had thought, “a house that’ll be good to live in with Se-min,” then it was entirely plausible.
His chest suddenly lurched. It was touching to realize that even in ordinary times, Cha-hyeon had been thinking of him like that—and at the same time, it was heartbreaking that he’d lost those memories.
“If we drive, it’s about twenty minutes. The car’s in the parking lot, so if you just follow—”
Walking naturally a step ahead, Se-min froze when Cha-hyeon suddenly wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He didn’t smell of his usual cologne, but of cheap shampoo and soap, with a faint undertone of his own scent.
Half-folded into the embrace, Se-min’s cheeks flared hot. When he creaked around to face him, Cha-hyeon exaggeratedly pulled down the corners of his mouth.
“You won’t even hold my hand.”
“…No, you can just… f-follow me, there’s no need to…”
At the whining, even Se-min’s speech tripped. The smooth mouth twitched, and then Cha-hyeon put on an even more ostentatiously dejected act.
“Isn’t it way too awkward for a couple? That hurts.”
Now Se-min’s lips pressed shut. With his lips clamped tight, his cheeks rounded as he managed to mumble:
“…No…”
“Se-min keeps saying no to everything.”
“No, that’s not—!”
He moved to deny it and only made it stranger. Having sliced at empty air with his hands for no reason, he lowered them sheepishly. With a soft snort, Cha-hyeon leaned in and murmured even more suggestively.
“Mm? Hyung said he’d actively cooperate so his memories come back. I listened to the doctor, didn’t I? Se-min should do his part as a boyfriend, too.”
As he pressed his lips tighter, Se-min’s cheek twitched. Since he stayed quiet, Cha-hyeon poked his bun-like round cheek with a fingertip. Like sweet red bean paste popping out, the answer burst forth.
“Fine!”
Though it felt like marching into a war already lost, Se-min answered with grim resolve and grabbed Cha-hyeon’s hand. Startled by the force with which he was pulled, Cha-hyeon let out a small laugh through his nose.
In short, this was after Se-min toppled headlong for Cha-hyeon’s persuasion.
For quite a while, he couldn’t get his head on straight. Of course he couldn’t. He’d somehow started dating the Hyung he’d been pining after for so long—and his long-held wish had come true thanks to the other’s active pursuit—so staying perfectly calm would’ve been the stranger reaction.
But that buoyant, unreal feeling fades the moment you register that this is real. The same Se-min who’d been drifting along going, “Wow…” soon sobered up, thinking, “Is this really okay?”
Just as Cha-hyeon had argued, even if he ended up regretting it, it would be better to go all in and then regret it; and considering what would likely happen once his memories returned, making the most of their time as a couple would make it feel less unfair.
Even so, the world doesn’t run on a neat, even-exchange mindset of you got this much, so give back that much to break even. He’d accepted Cha-hyeon’s proposal in a to-hell-with-it spirit, but the most fundamental dilemma—“Is it really okay to do this?”—still lingered.
In short, his conscience pricked him. Even if Cha-hyeon had teased him, stolen his wits, and soothed him until he slid neatly to the result Cha-hyeon wanted, in the end he was the one who’d agreed.
“Hyung, I’ve got something to say.”
After a sleepless night of fretting, Se-min finally set one condition for the fresher-than-ever-looking Cha-hyeon.
“While we’re… dating, I’ll do everything I can to help your memories come back. Don’t act like it’s someone else’s problem—cooperate actively so your memories return, too.”
Just as he’d expected, Cha-hyeon wore a bored look that said, “Why should I?” But unexpectedly, he agreed without fuss.
“If that’s all it takes to keep you from going back on your word, I can do that.”
Only then did it feel like a weight slid off Se-min’s heart. He didn’t know what choice his hyung would make once he got his memories back, but up to that point, he would have done his best. There was also a bit of calculation—that when Cha-hyeon eventually recovered his memory, he himself would have something to say.
That’s what he’d thought, and yet…
