“P-please… put me down….”
Han Jigang tightened his arms, holding Nabin’s fragile body close, refusing to let him slip away.
“Stay still. We’re going out to the garden.”
Without another word, Jigang carried him outside. Dawn had not yet broken, and even wrapped in a sheet, the chill of the early morning wind made Nabin shrink into himself. His body was warm in Jigang’s embrace, but his exposed face and neck stung as if the cold air were cutting straight through to the bone.
“Just endure it for a little while.”
Jigang sat down on the swing and began circulating the mana in his body. His mana, like his ability, burned with searing heat. If released, it could melt almost anything to nothing.
But now, it simply raised his body temperature, turning his warmth into something soothing. He pressed Nabin’s face against his chest and tucked the sheet carefully up to his neck, his hands moving with gentle precision.
The tight stiffness in Nabin’s body slowly melted beneath the heat and tenderness. Like the swing rocking back and forth, the wounds in his heart left by Tae Yishin seemed to shrink little by little.
Jigang noticed how Nabin leaned into him, how his guard lowered bit by bit. Out of Nabin’s sight, his own expression softened.
If anyone saw his face now, they might have mistaken the two for lovers caught in the first bloom of love. His lips curved faintly upward, as tender as the hand stroking through Nabin’s hair.
“…Shouldn’t we be Guiding?”
Nabin couldn’t see his face—only hear the steady thump of his heartbeat, quick but not angry. Still, he had his duty.
The reason Han Jigang and Gong Min treated him kindly was simple: he held the Guiding mana that could ease them. Even if his body felt comfortable, the thought left his heart unsettled.
“Not today. You need a break too.”
Nabin hesitated, wondering if he should get up and kneel at Jigang’s feet. Though the aftershocks of Guiding Tae Yishin still lingered—too much to handle anything below—his mouth was unharmed. But Jigang’s calm voice told him to rest. Nabin’s clear eyes trembled like leaves in the wind.
“…I can rest?”
“Yeah.”
Though Guiding Tae Yishin yesterday had left his body and mind drained, it wasn’t that he was incapable of Guiding. Even in worse shape, he had guided countless Espers.
And yet… just once, he longed to do nothing but rest. It was a wish he’d only ever kept inside. Somehow, Jigang had read his heart and given him permission.
When Jigang spoke, Nabin found himself believing. The more he came to know the man, the more certain he was—Han Jigang wasn’t someone who made false promises. If he said it was okay to rest, then it truly was.
“…Thank you.”
Without a word, Jigang stroked his hair. Even as dampness spread across his chest, he offered no shallow comfort. He simply shared his warmth until Nabin’s trembling eased.
Jigang had already decided—Tae Yishin wouldn’t touch Nabin for at least a week. Lately Yishin’s behavior had seemed to improve, so Jigang had left him alone, but clearly, behind closed doors, he’d treated Nabin harshly.
No marks were left, which only proved the bastard had cleaned up after himself. He’d done it knowing Jigang and Gong Min would be furious if they found out. That deserved retribution.
Now, the Espers’ Outbreak Risk Index had finally stabilized, thanks to Nabin’s relentless Guiding at the cost of his own health.
Because of that, even the Center Director no longer monitored them as strictly as before, checking in only occasionally. Skipping a week of Guiding wouldn’t be disastrous. If their risk levels rose, they could always be ordered to use a machine.
Jigang rocked the swing gently until the sun fully rose. The darkness gave way to light, the world stretching awake under the dawn.
The peace was so deep, it almost made Nabin forget who was sitting beside him. His eyelids drooped as he stared blankly at the garden bathed in sunlight, until suddenly his cheeks flushed pink.
“Hungry?”
“…Ah, n-no.”
But his stomach gave a faint growl. To Nabin, it was barely audible. To Jigang, whose attention was fixed wholly on him, it was deafening.
Smiling, Jigang stood from the swing. He’d found Nabin shivering in a closet—it was no surprise he hadn’t eaten in days.
“Your stomach just growled really loud.”
Flustered, Nabin squirmed, clutching his belly. The sound came again, louder this time, impossible to deny.
“Hahaha.”
Nabin’s cheeks and ears flushed redder than the roses in bloom, and Jigang burst out laughing. His chest shook with mirth, making Nabin bounce helplessly in his arms.
Overwhelmed, Nabin buried his face in his small hands. It didn’t hide his crimson ears, but like a child who believed covering his eyes made him invisible, he seemed to think no one could see him now.
“Let’s eat. I’ll make you something delicious.”
His open embarrassment only made Jigang adore him more. He leaned close to whisper in Nabin’s ear before carrying him back inside. Then, seeing him still hiding his face, Jigang’s playful streak surfaced.
He loosened his grip as if to drop him. Startled, Nabin immediately dropped his hands and clung tightly around his neck. Each time he reached for Jigang like this, Jigang’s heart fluttered as though brushed by feathers.
Unable to hold back a smile, he pressed a fleeting kiss to the flushed nape of Nabin’s neck. He set him down gently on the soft sofa, even bringing cushions so he could recline comfortably.
“C-can I… stay here?”
“Yeah. I’ll be quick, just wait.”
“…Okay.”
Nabin’s world inside the mansion was small: his room, the bathroom across the hall, and sometimes the swing in the garden.
Jigang had told him he was free to roam the first floor and the garden, but unless Ryu Somin was with him, he rarely dared. Those were places he might run into Tae Yishin unguarded.
If he wandered too far and met him by chance, the day could turn into another nightmare like yesterday. Nabin had no desire to shatter his fragile peace over such a small indulgence.
That was why this was the first time he’d ever sat on the living room sofa. Compared to the bed in his room, the sofa was enormous; just sitting on it felt like sinking into clouds.
“…It’s so soft.”
Neither his bed nor the little sofa in his room had felt like this. They were firm, not soft. This one enveloped him like whipped cream—strange, but pleasant.
From here, he could see Jigang clearly. Wearing an apron, he looked awkward yet oddly fitting. Nabin couldn’t take his eyes off him as he busied himself cooking. Each time Jigang moved and glanced back, Nabin quickly turned away, flustered at the thought of being caught staring.
“Oh? It’s Nabin-hyung.”
“What the—”
As Nabin curled his toes and pressed his fingers into the cushion, testing its softness, Ryu Somin and Tae Yishin came down from the second floor. At the sound of Yishin’s voice, Nabin froze instantly.
He clenched the hand that had been pressing the sofa and drew himself inward as much as possible. His thin shoulders trembled, the sheet Jigang had draped over him slipping to the floor.
The sharp gaze stabbing into him made him want to run straight back to his room. But paralyzed with fear, his body shook uncontrollably, refusing to move.
“Nabin-hyung, did you sleep well yesterday?”
“Y-yeah…”
Somin sat beside him, leaning close as if to peek at his hidden face. Unable to ignore him, Nabin whispered a small answer, then held his breath.
He prayed desperately that Yishin wouldn’t lash out today. If he had to Guide him again after yesterday, despair would swallow him whole, like ink flooding his mind.
Perhaps heaven heard him. Yishin didn’t approach or hurl sharp words; instead, he sat on the opposite sofa, gazing out at the garden.
He knew he’d gone too far yesterday. And besides, anything said here would carry straight into Jigang’s ears in the kitchen. Better to say nothing.
“Looks like everyone’s here. Did Gong Min go out?”
“Yeah. Probably at dawn.”
Jigang slipped off his apron and walked into the living room. He knew Yishin was the one who had hurt Nabin yesterday. Nabin had always feared him, but now he cowered even more, avoiding even his eyes. Jigang swallowed a sigh and moved toward him.
“I feel like I haven’t seen Min-hyung’s face in forever…”
“When he comes back today, I’ll tell him to go straight to your room. Don’t pout.”
Somin fiddled with the blanket on his shoulders, mumbling sadly. Yishin patted him in comfort. Lately, Gong Min had been given more missions than usual.
He had always been busy, but back then, he still made time for Somin. These days, though, whenever he returned, he often sought out Nabin first before leaving again. No wonder Somin felt left out. Like Jigang, Gong Min’s priorities had shifted.
