“I’ll try to stick as close as I can, but with the Black Gate incident, there are things I need to check on. There’ll be times when I have to leave Chi-yu on his own.”
So he asked them to protect Chi-yu whenever he wasn’t around.
Do-il and Do-jae both nodded without hesitation.
“But what exactly is the Black Gate incident?”
Do-jae asked.
It was timely, since Min Yu-hyun from the Central Bureau had said something unsettling that very morning.
“It’s still unclear. I’ll need to hear what the Bureau Chief says.”
“That thing with the mutant beast right before it went into Rampage?”
Because Tae-oh had summoned Beom Do-il immediately after saving Chi-yu from that beast, Do-il already knew about it.
“Yeah.”
“Guide Min Yu-hyun said he saw something. Did you ask him about it?”
When Do-jae asked, Tae-oh shook his head and shot the question back.
“What did he see?”
“I don’t know exactly. Better to hear it firsthand.”
Tae-oh nodded. Then he jerked his chin toward Do-il.
“Then you go find out.”
“What?!”
“He was your first partner. Go ask him what he saw.”
“Why me? You should go meet him!”
At Do-il’s protest, Tae-oh turned away.
“My Chi-yu will misunderstand.”
Then he vanished in a calm teleport. Do-il shouted at the empty air.
“My Jun-hyung misunderstands too, you bastard!?”
Do-jae stared at the space Tae-oh had disappeared from and murmured softly.
“Teleporting must be hell on him….”
After the Black Gate incident, Tae-oh had nearly drained himself, and using his powers further was supposed to be dangerous.
He should’ve been bedridden for a week in recovery, yet he’d already burned through more energy tracking down the culprit who attacked Chi-yu.
As an SS-rank Esper, the amount of energy he expended in combat was immense. And the more energy expended, the greater the pain. The harsher the pain, the harder it became to maintain control.
That was why Espers pushed to their limit so often tipped straight into Rampage—they couldn’t manage the agony.
“What?”
Do-il turned to him, but Do-jae shook his head as if it was nothing.
If Tae-oh was forcing himself to endure it silently, it was because he didn’t want Kang Chi-yu to notice.
So Do-jae decided to respect that and kept quiet.
***
Do-jae, Do-il, and Jun-hyung left.
It was too late to go back to bed, yet too early to truly start the day. The window already glowed faintly blue with the light of dawn.
Chi-yu sat staring outside, waiting for Tae-oh, who had gone to wash up, to come out.
All Tae-oh had said was that the matter was handled. He never explained who the Fire-attribute Esper was, why it happened, or how it was resolved.
Of course, Chi-yu understood that Tae-oh wanted to protect him by not saying everything. But he was the one directly involved—he deserved to know.
He intended to press for answers once Tae-oh came out. But Tae-oh beat him to it, cutting him off with a scolding the moment he noticed Chi-yu looked a little better.
“Who told you to risk your damn life Guiding a mutant beast, huh?”
His wet bangs clung to his forehead, making his face look younger, his brows twitching in irritation. Far from intimidating, it made him so cute Chi-yu almost wanted to press his lips to them.
He had felt this before.
Back then, when his feelings for Hyun Tae-oh had been wavering like reeds, the emotion that followed was always damp guilt.
Harboring forbidden thoughts toward a friend. Fantasizing things he shouldn’t.
Like secretly imagining something he had no right to, only to loathe himself after.
That was who he had been then…
Yes, back then.
“I told you to stay put in the Guiding safety zone.”
“I was staying put.”
At Chi-yu’s retort, Tae-oh hesitated.
His simple nature showed clearly—‘Now that you mention it, you’re right.’
“No. What kind of Guide tries to Guide a mutant beast, Chi-yu?”
“It was on the verge of Rampage. If an Esper explodes in Rampage, everyone nearby gets caught in it. The same goes for a mutant beast. And if it had happened inside the Guiding zone, most of the Guides would’ve been killed.”
Including me.
He added the words quietly, watching Tae-oh’s face.
He could understand Tae-oh’s anger. His recklessness had been dangerous. But there had been no other choice, and even if he could go back, he would’ve done the same thing.
“I already knew you’re the type to charge in without thinking.”
“Me? Isn’t that more like you?”
When Chi-yu corrected him, Tae-oh twitched his brow.
“Either way, try not to throw yourself into danger, Chi-yu.”
“I do try.”
“No, you don’t. Do you know how many times a day my heart nearly drops out of my chest because of you?”
“Well, weirdly enough, you always save me. Makes me wonder if maybe I act a little more carelessly because I trust you’ll be there.”
Chi-yu smiled mischievously.
“Oh, really.”
Tae-oh scrunched his brows but chuckled faintly.
“Trust me all you want. Keep trusting me. I’ll stake my life to protect you.”
“Don’t stake your life. If you die because of me, do you think I could go on living whole after that?”
At those words, Tae-oh’s lips curved again.
“If I die, would you cry?”
He asked playfully. Chi-yu sighed.
“Would I only cry?”
“What, you mean you’d follow me?”
Even as he tried to take it back, Chi-yu’s answer came instantly.
“Of course I would.”
That answer stirred something in him.
There was no way Chi-yu loved him as much as he loved Chi-yu.
To Kang Chi-yu, he was just a childhood friend, the only friend who stayed, someone who needed looking after—nothing more.
So the answer to what he asked next should have been obvious.
“If it wasn’t because of you, if I just died—then what?”
“Don’t say that. Just imagining it makes it hard to breathe. Feels like I’d die.”
He had expected replies like Then I won’t die or If it’s not my fault, why would I follow you? But what Chi-yu said was entirely different.
And with it came a rush of excitement he struggled to dismiss as wishful thinking.
Tae-oh forced a joking tone.
“You hate the idea of me dying that much?”
“And what, would you be happy if I died?”
“Are you insane? Fuck no, I can’t even stand to picture it.”
“Me too. I can’t stand even imagining you dying. So don’t. If you’re gonna die, then die with me. Same day, same hour.”
The words hit him so sweetly it made his blood surge—though not just in his head.
Same day, same hour. Was there any line more intoxicating than that?
Tae-oh bowed his head with a groan.
“Ha, fuck. I hate it, but I love it too.”
His damp hair was tousled in a way that looked absurdly cute.
Chi-yu’s hand twitched with the urge to touch it, but reason held him back.
“What’s that even mean—hating it but loving it?”
Chi-yu asked, feigning nonchalance.
“I hate that you’d follow me to death, but I love that you’d say you would.”
Tae-oh’s eyes crinkled as he laughed.
It was the first carefree smile Chi-yu had seen in a long time.
“Anyway, don’t ever pull something that dangerous again, alright?”
“Yeah… but Tae-oh.”
“Yeah?”
Suddenly, Chi-yu placed his hand on the back of Tae-oh’s.
The sudden contact made Tae-oh flinch, and in that instant, Chi-yu’s Guiding began.
Not to stabilize—but to check his resonance.
“As I thought… it’s bad.”
The resonance was tangled and chaotic.
When they’d done Saliva-contact Guiding before sleep, it hadn’t been anywhere near this bad.
Even while joking, Tae-oh’s brows had twitched ever so slightly with pain—but after over twenty years together, Chi-yu could read him easily.
Chi-yu poured in as much energy as he could.
The rank gap made it impossible to completely smooth it out, but at least he could ease the agony Tae-oh had been enduring.
A low groan slipped from Tae-oh’s lips.
“Idiot. Why didn’t you ask me to Guide you when you were in this state?”
“It was bearable.”
“What are you, a masochist? You like pain?”
“I don’t think so. If I had to pick, I’d be the one doing the hitting, not the one taking it.”
Tae-oh grinned mischievously.
Chi-yu tightened his grip and glared.
“If you’re going to ask, then let me do more.”
“…No.”
At that, Tae-oh lowered his gaze.
There was no denying it.
“Then should we go to Stage 3?”
Tae-oh rubbed the inside of Chi-yu’s wrist with the hand he held.
“Don’t joke. Not until our relationship is properly defined.”
“Feels like I’ve already seduced you, though.”
Tae-oh tilted his head slightly, eyes fixed on Chi-yu’s face.
“……”
“Right? Haven’t I? You’ve already come halfway—maybe more.”
“……”
“Haven’t you?”
“…And if I have?”
Chi-yu lifted his gaze to meet Tae-oh’s.
Tae-oh’s eyes widened.
“And if I have, then what?”
“Then we date.”
The words spilled out without hesitation.
Fixing his gaze on Chi-yu’s startled face, Tae-oh repeated the words he wanted him to hear.
“Let’s date. You and me.”
“……”
“I’ll treat you right for the rest of your life.”
When Tae-oh had first declared he’d seduce him, Chi-yu had secretly wished he’d say those words.
But looking back now, if Tae-oh had said let’s date right away, maybe he would’ve panicked and taken a step back.
They had been friends for over twenty years.
Until Tae-oh confessed, there had never been a hint of it.
Chi-yu’s own one-sided love had dragged on painfully long, weighed down with countless tangled thoughts.
So maybe Tae-oh had been far smarter than he seemed—choosing first to declare he’d win him over, instead of demanding an answer right away.
