After Nabin first performed Manifested Guiding on Hayan, Hayan later described to him what it had been like.
“Nabin, do you remember guiding me?”
“…Me?”
He had no memory of it. Hayan explained that on the day Nabin had gone into the first-floor room to see his bedridden mother, he had panicked and unconsciously guided him.
“A swarm of violet butterflies appeared—they looked just like the ones on your pendant.”
Since Nabin knew nothing about Manifested Guiding, Hayan carefully explained everything he understood. Guides capable of Manifested Guiding were extremely rare.
It was an ability Nabin hadn’t possessed before his regression. Perhaps it was connected to his Guide Rank changing. Maybe it was possible because he was an Immeasurable Guide—or maybe the immense fear buried within him had forced the ability to surface. There was no way to know for sure.
What mattered was that now, unlike in the past, Nabin could guide on his own terms.
He could guide even without touch, and when touching, he could control the flow of his mana instead of having it drained against his will. The realization brought a deep sense of relief. At the very least, he wouldn’t have to be helplessly dragged around by others anymore.
With Hayan’s help, Nabin slowly began learning how to handle his guiding mana. Of course, since Hayan wasn’t a Guide, his ability to help was limited.
Still, guiding mana bore similarities to the mana Espers wielded. Back when Nabin had been D-rank, his mana reserves were so small he could hardly sense them at all.
He only became aware of it when Espers pressed themselves against his skin, forcing him to guide them. Only then did the guiding mana surge up vividly within him.
After returning to the past, he had been too overwhelmed adjusting to his new circumstances to really examine himself.
Treatment from Ryu Soh-an had steadied his mind, and with Hayan constantly by his side, Nabin was, for the first time, able to quietly observe himself.
“It’s like when your heart races after running. Normally you don’t notice your heartbeat, but once it speeds up, you suddenly feel it clearly. Mana is like that—you sense it most when it’s active.”
Hayan always explained things with simple, clear examples.
Espers, too, couldn’t control their abilities freely the moment they awakened. Higher ranks tended to adapt faster because of their talent, but even Hayan—an S-rank Esper—had started simply by learning to recognize the mana within his own body.
For D-ranks, that kind of training was pointless—their mana was so faint they could barely sense it at all.
But from C-rank onward, Ability Users were trained at the Center to master it step by step. Originally, Nabin should have been learning the basics there, but because of his special circumstances, Hayan had taken it upon himself to teach him.
Basic knowledge was common to anyone affiliated with the Center. And since no other Guides were on Nabin’s level, and since he still recoiled from strangers, Hayan stepped forward as his teacher.
Nabin wanted to learn from Hayan anyway. Ryu Soh-an and Kim Su-hyun had to swallow their disappointment, but they helped in their own way, sharing what they knew and supporting Nabin’s growth.
“…Can I hold your hand?”
“…Yes.”
Nabin reached out to meet Hayan’s cautious hand. The difference in their sizes was so great it felt more like being held than holding.
“See how no mana flows into me even though we’re touching? That means you’re unconsciously refusing to guide.”
Nabin’s eyes wavered like storm-tossed waves. Of all people, Hayan was the one he wanted to guide of his own will. Espers needed Guiding.
In the past, guiding mana had poured out no matter what he wanted. But now, even holding the hand of someone he wanted to guide, his mana remained unmoving.
It upset him—that his mana seemed to act on its own, ignoring his will. No matter how he strained, nothing changed as their hands remained joined.
“Don’t look so down. Most high-level Guides struggle more with stopping their mana from leaking. You’ve already mastered that.”
Hayan smiled faintly and, with his free hand, gently ruffled Nabin’s hair. It felt as though his gloom had been laid bare. Heat bloomed across Nabin’s cheeks.
“You’re already holding it back instinctively. Now you just need to let it flow to the people you want.”
At that, Nabin’s lips softened into a small smile. It was something he had always longed for but never thought possible—the ability to guide only those he chose. And now, it had been handed to him like a gift.
“…Do you want to guide me?”
Hayan never forced him into anything. Even at meals, if there was food Nabin didn’t like, he set it aside without a word. Whenever Nabin wanted to do something, he encouraged him and stood by him.
Guiding was no different. If Nabin said no, Hayan would never press him. Even though Espers needed it, he valued Nabin’s wishes more.
“…I do.”
For the first time, Nabin felt a powerful desire to guide someone. Hayan’s Outbreak Risk Index was low, but not zero. Nabin wanted to ease his burden.
Espers said that as their risk index rose, it felt like heavy weights pressed down on them. Once past a certain point, it began with headaches, and if it worsened, it could become a fever so severe they lost consciousness.
Thanks to Hayan, Nabin was living the happiest days he’d had since his father’s death. Even before, when life was unbearable, the pendant Hayan had given him had helped him endure.
Back then and even now, Hayan was nothing less than a savior. Wanting to repay even a little of that kindness felt as natural as sunrise.
“…Thank you.”
Few people had ever thanked Nabin for guiding them. But Hayan was thanking him simply for wanting to. Of course Nabin was drawn to him.
His desire to guide Hayan swelled—and suddenly, Nabin felt his guiding mana surge within him, vibrant and alive.
“…Butterflies.”
Just as Hayan had said—between their clasped hands, butterflies burst forth as if breaking free from cocoons. They looked just like the ones on Nabin’s pendant, fluttering as they rose into the air and surrounded them.
“…They’re beautiful.”
Every flicker of their violet wings shimmered like the Milky Way scattered across the night sky. The sight was breathtaking, impossible to turn away from.
“…Yeah. They really are.”
For that moment, Nabin was so transfixed by the butterflies that even Hayan’s voice sounded distant. He watched, mesmerized, as they fluttered around him like affectionate pets.
Beep—
The silence broke with a sound from the bracelet on Hayan’s wrist. Just moments earlier, his Outbreak Risk Index had been in double digits—now it had dropped to zero.
“…Did I really guide you?”
“Yeah. It’s the first time it’s ever gone all the way down to zero.”
Guiding had never once left Nabin feeling good. But seeing Hayan’s risk index fall to zero stirred something new inside him. His heart swelled so much it felt like he could hear it fluttering, like butterfly wings.
“It’s such a strange feeling. Like I’ve finally set down a burden I’ve carried forever.”
Hayan seemed just as fascinated by the sensation. His gaze on the bracelet sparkled like starlight.
“It’s thanks to you, Nabin. Really—thank you.”
Neither of them looked away, even as the butterflies faded one by one until they all disappeared. Nabin felt startled by the face reflected back at him in Hayan’s dark eyes.
His own face looked dazed, slack with wonder. Embarrassed by how foolish he appeared, Nabin bit the inside of his cheek. Yet Hayan only looked at him with warmth, as though he was the most precious person in the world.
Finally, Nabin let go of his hand and covered his burning face with the back of his other hand. The heat there felt scalding.
“If you hold onto the sensation from just now, you’ll be able to guide freely from now on. Not so hard, right?”
Afraid his voice would betray him, Nabin didn’t answer. Instead, he only nodded, hard.
🥺