That was when it happened.
Along with the thump of something heavy dropping came a razor-edged rupture, a sound that felt not of this world. It was like space itself was tearing, or a world made entirely of glass was shattering.
Screams burst from the people near the rift. Se-min’s head turned on instinct, his pupils flaring wide.
What stood there was no longer the once-blurry rift.
With a noise like bones being ground to powder, the dark-blue rift stretched and unfurled. Rising from its crouch, it swelled as it reached out—grotesque yet grand. As it moved, as if warping time and space, Se-min’s lips slowly parted.
It was the first time in his life he’d witnessed something so literally unreal. Faced with a sight that shouldn’t exist, his mind went white. He thought, So they failed rift management and it turned into a gate, but the thought made no sense even as it came.
The dark-blue rift grew fast and ruinously, to a scale he couldn’t even guess. Sparks spat outward and stabbed the ground like lightning. Most fell inside the safety line, but a few landed beyond and scorched what they touched to black.
Like anyone going limp before a colossal natural disaster, all he could do was stare, dazed and afraid. His head rang hollow; his ears were stuffed with cotton.
Is something like that… allowed to exist? Why does humanity have to coexist with that? If you’re an Esper or a Guide, do you eventually get used to this?
Lost in a trance, Se-min stared at the rift turned Dungeon Gate. Grotesque against the peaceful central fountain, the dungeon felt at once overwhelming and enervating.
“Se-min.”
A low, gentle voice brushed his numb ears. Fingers caught his jaw and turned his face, softly. In the center of his vacant gaze, Cha-hyeon was smiling.
“……”
Only then did Se-min’s body start working again. Family, guardian, dependable Hyung, and lover. Like catching a stout rope right as he was about to tumble off a cliff, he started to shake. The fear hit, one beat late.
Cha-hyeon said,
“Why aren’t you answering?”
He smiled as if nothing at all had happened. The screams all around and Cha-hyeon’s smile—caught in that strange gulf, Se-min’s pounding heart suddenly cooled.
“…Huh?”
Se-min asked blankly. Still waiting for an answer, Cha-hyeon let out a small laugh through his nose, like, Did you forget?
“You don’t want wine? Hm, maybe Se-min doesn’t like alcohol.”
Se-min blinked. A clunking sense that something was off dropped into him. He pointed at the gate, as if to ask, You don’t see that?
“Hyung, over there, right next to us… you don’t see it?”
As if only just clocking the gate phenomenon, Cha-hyeon tilted his head and checked the rift. Now fully transformed, it shimmered, breathing a deep blue like heat haze.
Confused department store shoppers; the elderly, toppled in shock; the burned, injured where sparks had landed; big screams and a rising buzz of voices; the Espers’ orders as they tried to calm evacuees; people pulling out phones to record—and, in the middle of it all, that unreal gate.
“I see it.”
But Cha-hyeon’s attitude was endlessly nonchalant. A strange chill crept over Se-min. The question slipped out between his trembling lips before he could stop it.
“Hyung… even seeing that, you don’t feel anything?”
Cha-hyeon let his brows droop, like he’d heard something unexpected. Those too-dark eyes touched the gate, then returned to Se-min.
His gaze tipped left, as if he were checking his own feelings. But he spoke up without taking too long.
“If they can’t even handle that one… they’ll lock down this whole area. Want to go before our first date gets any more ruined?”
Se-min swallowed, throat dry. A bizarre wrongness wrapped his whole body. Hard to put a finger on, but the answer Cha-hyeon arrived at didn’t feel like a normal person’s.
How to put it—right now, Cha-hyeon seemed to lack all the things a human ought to have: worry, compassion, concern. As if he couldn’t empathize at all. As if he could be selfish without a shred of guilt…
Was Hyung always like this?
…No. Staring blankly at him, Se-min forced a more generous thought.
Maybe he’s acting unfazed to calm me down because I’m so rattled. Or maybe he’s seen this so often it just doesn’t move him.
Yeah, maybe that’s it. It’s tiring to be shocked every time at something you see a lot. As his irregular heartbeat settled, Se-min stepped to follow Cha-hyeon.
“……”
All at once, he felt a huge, icy gaze settle on his back. Marked like prey, he went rigid.
His heart thundered—thud, thud—far too fast. Cold sweat trickled down his spine. It lasted only an instant, but to Se-min the eerie sensation felt like an age.
Then, as if severing a tangled current of time, he snapped back to himself, sudden and sharp. Somewhere, it sounded like a scream was aimed at him. He lowered his head and looked at his hands.
His fingers—no, his whole hands—no, his wrists, his forearms, his clothes, his pants, the peeking toe of his shoe—everything glowed, rimmed in blue.
What is this? The scene looked like a game effect pasted over reality, and the certainty that something was very wrong hit hard.
But that didn’t mean he knew how to stop it. Was he seeing things? Se-min darted his gaze around.
Every shocked eye was pinned to him. The pale blue light sheeting off his body clearly wasn’t visible to him alone. In disbelief, he looked at his hands again. They still flashed blue, as if submerged in a vat of deep-blue liquid.
The fact that this was real crashed over him like a towering wave. He sucked in a sharp breath and looked urgently to Cha-hyeon.
The mask-like smile on Cha-hyeon’s face slowly curdled into dismay. Seeing his guardian ripple like that made Se-min’s heart drop.
Does Hyung know what’s happening to me?
“…Hyung… Uh, what is this…?”
His voice, unexpectedly, came out grudging and sour.
—!
The world flared blindingly blue, as if it had overexposed. Through squinting eyes, he saw Cha-hyeon’s lips part, as if to call his name. Cha-hyeon’s arm shot out on instinct to catch him—but to Se-min, the whole sequence dragged in slow motion.
“……!”
The light stabbed his eyes and his lids slammed shut. It was so bright his whole head throbbed.
Did he scream? Did he thrash against the pressure cinching his limbs?
.
.
.
“Right? It’s our first date.”
Words shared in secret inside the crowd tickled his ear. The bustle sounded very far away. Cutting through it, only a gentle male voice reached him clearly.
“Wanna go outside… maybe walk by the Han River?”
Se-min blinked to bring some hazy point into focus. Like he’d been floating through space and suddenly returned to Earth, a heavy sense of reality planted itself under his feet.
In that instant, as if someone cranked the volume, the noise made by countless people poured into his ears. His vision sharpened too, like someone bumped up the resolution.
“Or we could hit the hotel lounge bar next door and drink wine while looking at the river. The sun’s down now.”
Uh… Se-min looked at the man murmuring sweetly in front of him. The man had lowered his waist to meet his eyes and smiled gently. Blinking, Se-min rubbed at the corners of his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
A tender voice. Se-min pressed his brow, squeezed his eyes shut and opened them, then shook his head. The reply came out familiar and easy.
“Nothing… I just zoned out for a sec. Sorry, Hyung.”
Maybe the acupressure helped. The fog in his head lifted, leaving it clear again. He looked back at the man before him. Dressed in an Esper-only combat suit, the man gave a small laugh.
“Guess you’re tired. Didn’t sleep well?”
“……”
Se-min shot a not-so-mean glare at the culprit who’d kept him from sleeping properly. Laughter came again. The man tousled his hair, teasing.
“Ah!”
“So, Se-min. We going for wine or not?”
The hand that had been petting him like a cute puppy now smoothed his hair gently back into place. Trading the kind of talk lovers share while pulling the same old prank he’d played since they were kids, Se-min’s cheeks warmed.
Happy despite himself, he muttered with a little pout,
“…Wine? We drove here. We should call a chauffeur ser—”
His whisper cut off. He’d just thought of a way around calling a driver. His cheeks and earlobes, already warm, flushed outright. Laughter floated out again, followed by a suggestive murmur.
“We could just stay over. It’s a hotel.”
He held out his hand.
“……”
Se-min looked down at that masculine, callused hand. His ears felt oddly plugged, but he let himself be won over and took it.
***
Ah, fuck.
