Hee-young was wrestling with a book for the first time in ages, to the point where he felt his head might split open. It was a young body, so it wasn’t as if his brain had gone stiff — maybe the reason nothing was going in was because the soul inside it was old. He tried holding the book upside down, gave it a punch — still nothing stuck. Was the original owner of this body just a blockhead too?
“Damn it, what the hell is Radiant Guiding now. What even is ‘radiant.’ How do you do it. What do they want from me!”
Hee-young yelled and lifted the thick book to hurl it — then swayed from the weight of holding it with one hand, and successfully managed to drop it right off the side of the bed.
“Oh for the love of — heavy as hell for just a book…!”
He was tired of cursing at his feeble body every single time, so now he’d taken to blaming everything around him instead, before exhaling a long, defeated sigh. He’d been throwing a fit every five minutes, but he’d promised himself he’d finish this section before Ha-ram came back, so he had no time to waste.
Ha-ram would teach him even if he hadn’t read ahead — but if he walked into the lesson having read nothing, Ha-ram’s relentless, tenacious teaching style would just keep going indefinitely. Hee-young had no capacity to endure that.
“The first line revisits the basics of Guiding. What are the basics of Guiding? Don’t remember? Shall we flip back to page 16? That’s okay. We can learn it again.”
That warm smile repeating the same things over and over — rote drilling — was enough to drive Hee-young mad. When he swore or blew up, Ha-ram would give him time to cool down and then, completely unbothered, restart the lesson. The way Ha-ram maintained that composed done throwing your fit? then open the book stance — there was something almost unhinged about it.
After about an hour of that insane lesson, Hee-young declared he’d rather read on his own first and then ask about the parts he didn’t understand. That seemed better for his mental and physical health. The problem was that most of it was incomprehensible, and not knowing was a problem in itself.
Hee-young stared at the book lying pathetically on the hospital room floor. Back when the older brother he’d followed had announced he was shutting down the gang business and going legitimate with a construction company, the ones with half a brain had started studying, while the ones in the same boat as Hee-young — who no matter how much you taught them just spat everything back out — had only pretended to read.
Now that there was the wrapping paper of a corporation, the boss had ordered them to read something, anything, so Hee-young had even picked up a philosophy book because it looked the most impressive — but the contents had never once entered his head. Whenever he tried to read, sleep crashed down on him like a waterfall, and the words just wouldn’t go in. His loyal subordinate Jun-shik had eventually succeeded in reading an entire philosophy book cover to cover, but all he’d ever parroted back was: God is dead! Nietzsche said so! God is dead! — just those two sentences — so whether he’d actually read it properly was anyone’s guess.
“Couldn’t do it back then either. Hah…. What am I even doing at my age…. Goodness, what a life.”
Hee-young was groaning and grumbling as he reached down to pick up the book when — sliding open, then a thud — he heard the hospital room door behind him. Hee-young scrambled to grab the book and called out:
“What? You’re back already? Wait — hold on! I was reading! Hey! Just a second!”
“Mm, were you studying? Our little princess is so good.”
It wasn’t Ha-ram’s voice but Shin-yul’s — Hee-young let go of the book mid-grab and snapped his head up.
“What, it was you…? God, you scared me. Thought it was Ha-ram. Wait, didn’t you go to work?”
“Went and came back for a bit. Have to go again.”
“Busy life.”
“Yeah, I’m busy. Probably going to get a lot busier.”
Leaning against the hospital room door, watching Hee-young quietly, Shin-yul’s golden eyes gleamed with a cool light. He crumpled the paper he’d been holding and tucked it into his inner pocket, then just stood there with a lopsided smile. The guy who’d normally clung to him like an oversized dog the second he walked in was standing unusually far away — Hee-young, who’d reflexively furrowed his brow out of habit, now looked puzzled instead.
“What, very busy? What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“No, I just….”
It’s obviously weird, what do you mean what do I mean…. Hee-young grumbled only in his head. He would sooner die than be the one to ask out loud why Shin-yul wasn’t coming over to fawn over him like usual. But ignoring it entirely when the kid seemed a little…
It’s kind of ridiculous how quickly I’ve gotten attuned to his moods after barely knowing him, and it’s even more absurd that I’m actually bothered by it — but Hee-young couldn’t let any of that show. Come to think of it, he’d been furious with Shin-yul all night, had stayed up until dawn over it, and just a few hours ago had demanded the Matching Rate charts of other Espers as a way to get a handle on Shin-yul — and yet here he was, unable to say a word just because the kid looked a little off. It was utterly ridiculous, but Hee-young decided that, as the adult, he’d let it slide for now.
Both of them stayed silent, and an awkward stillness settled between them. Hee-young fidgeted and, with one hand, lifted the book onto the bed and flipped through the pages aimlessly to avoid the atmosphere. Shin-yul stood watching him for a moment, then slowly came toward his bed.
“Princess.”
“What.”
“I’m going to be busy — but I thought, even when I’m busy, I’d at least be able to stop by and see you for a bit?”
“Why would you do that when you’re busy. Don’t.”
Even if I say don’t, he’ll come scurrying over at every chance he gets, whining to be Guided. Hee-young answered dismissively. Eyes not even meeting his, brow prettily creased in a frown, speaking curtly — Shin-yul watched him and smiled softly. His long fingers lightly pressed and rubbed at the crinkled spot between Hee-young’s brows.
“Yeah. I don’t think I’ll be able to.”
“…What, are you going off to war or something?”
Hee-young looked up with a baffled expression — and Shin-yul took that moment to lean in and press a soft peck to those pliant lips. The Guiding that passed between them in that instant sent a tingle through him.
“Ah, damn it, seriously….”
There’s no one to worry about but this idiot, so I end up worrying about him…. Hee-young scowled and scrubbed at his lips with his hospital gown sleeve.
“Don’t go crying because you miss me.”
“What are you on about.”
“Eat your meals properly.”
“Are you my mom?”
Even when met with a comeback to every single line, Shin-yul just smiled and patted Hee-young’s cheek.
“Study hard, princess. You’re the only one who can save me.”
“…….”
“And you’re the only one who can kill me. My life belongs to you, Hee-young.”
“What, what is this out of nowhere….”
“Keep studying well, princess. See you later.”
Having said his fill of things Hee-young couldn’t quite follow, Shin-yul turned without looking back and left the hospital room. It was a remarkably clean farewell for someone who claimed he wouldn’t be seeing him for a while. Hee-young shuddered for some reason he couldn’t name.
…That crazy bastard, what’s gotten into him all of a sudden?
***
Deputy Shin stood in front of the hospital room door, face drained of color, hands trembling violently. Actually, it wasn’t just his hands — his entire body was shaking. And right beside him, Deputy Seong was in exactly the same state, trembling just as badly. That was because Deputy Shin had called him in tears, after asking about the scope of occupational injury coverage. Deputy Seong had been buying a lighter at a convenience store — never even got to smoke his cigarette — and came running, but faced with a situation that had no solution, all he could do was stand beside Deputy Shin and shake like a man possessed.
Deputy Shin stared with hollow, lightless eyes at the paper rattling in his hands. On it were the names of Espers listed in order from the highest Matching Rate down.
The sheet, which began with [1. 95% — Han Shin-yul] followed by other names below, was no longer a Guiding Matching Rate analysis chart for Hee-young. It had become nothing less than a kill list.
“I… would like to submit… my resignation…”
Deputy Shin could not face the prospect of encountering those Espers one by one as they each met with freak accidents, like murder victims in a detective novel.
“Even cold water has an order, Deputy Shin. I’m quitting first….”
Of course, Deputy Seong had no stomach for it either. It had never crossed his mind — not even in a dream — that the Matching Rate chart itself would end up in Han Shin-yul’s hands. How on earth were you supposed to stop that lunatic? A method to stop an S-rank Esper blinded by jealousy and out of his mind? Was there one? You might as well ask a civil servant to stop a natural disaster. What do you expect from someone who passed an exam in Korean, English, and Korean History? What does this country want from its people?
Wearing his miserable expression, Deputy Seong quickly snapped back to his senses and let out a fierce AUGH! as a rallying cry. This was no time to be standing around. When a tornado was bearing down, the civil servant’s job was at least to evacuate the residents.
Sliding open — BANG—!
“Hee-young!”
“What! You scared me…. No, why does everyone keep popping out of nowhere today? You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
Hee-young, who’d been giving the book the middle finger, shot to his feet in shock at their thunderous entrance. Deputy Seong walked toward him with a resolute expression and snatched the paper from Deputy Shin’s still-trembling hand, then held it out to Hee-young.
“Hee-young. You said you weren’t changing your paired Esper. You made a promise. To us. A promise not to change. Ever.”
“…I don’t think ‘ever’ was part of it?”
“Regardless.”
“…….”
There was something about Deputy Seong that radiated an unspoken force — the sheer pressure of it rendered Hee-young speechless, his big eyes blinking wordlessly.
“Oh, and Hee-young — we’re going to be pretty busy for a while, so we probably won’t be able to come by as often. But please contact us if anything comes up.”
With a deep bow — a full ninety degrees — Deputy Seong then grabbed the collar of the still-hollow-eyed, still-trembling Deputy Shin and marched toward the door with the bearing of someone heading into battle. At his retreating back, Hee-young called out is there actually a war going on? — but no answer came.
What’s gotten into everyone. They’re not exactly sane on a normal day but today’s a bit much, isn’t it?
Hee-young muttered to himself, then looked down at the Guiding Matching Rate analysis chart now in his hands and smiled with quiet satisfaction before tucking it into a drawer. Since he had no real intention of changing his Pair, he didn’t even bother reading the names written on the sheet.
All without knowing a single thing about the storm that one piece of paper had set in motion.
“Hee-young, have you finished reading?”
“Huh? Oh — no! Just a little more, a little more! Go around one more time!”
“…I’ve already lapped the hospital fifteen times….”
Ha-ram sighed as he said it, but Hee-young was already thoroughly absorbed in the fantasy of the next time Han Shin-yul tried to pull something — he’d shove that paper in his face and make him cry.
And just like that, a full month passed without Hee-young catching even a shadow of Han Shin-yul.
