This time, the breath that came through sounded even closer to a laugh.
At the same moment, the hand that had been wrapped around the side of Hae-il’s waist slid slowly across his lower back and shifted to the other side. It moved slowly enough that he could feel every detail of the palm against him.
The hand that had traced all the way across his back only came to rest once it had wrapped his waist completely with a firm arm. A large palm swept softly past his side and up slightly to his stomach.
As the guiding Wavelength seeped in along the path of that touch, his body melted into a languid looseness. It was a strange sensation — the comfort of recovery and a pleasure that kept making him want to curl inward, both existing at once.
He was struggling not to show any of it when a low voice drifted close to his ear.
“If that’s what you’re into, I can work with that.”
…What a thing to say.
“I’m not into anything, so just do the contact guiding properly. A lot of good it’s doing for the charge rate.”
Since it was dark anyway and his face couldn’t be seen, Hae-il let his expression go openly, shamelessly readable — and let his body go completely slack.
It must have added a considerable amount of weight, but Moon Woo-shin didn’t move in the slightest. That was somehow even more irritating, and yet at the same time —
“Your Wavelength seems to be saying the opposite.”
Hae-il pressed down the complicated feeling stirring inside him and shifted his gaze to the distance.
Outside, it was still filled with the gently swaying transparent liquid — but even by rough estimation, it had receded noticeably compared to before.
At this rate, maybe just a little longer.
And so, in silence, he endured — quietly accepting the guiding for the next few hours.
Please, just… this goddamn Esper body of mine….
The more the guiding intensified, and the longer the time stretched of taking that dense, concentrated guiding into every part of him, the more pleasure accumulated and there was nothing he could do about it.
On top of that, whenever it became just barely bearable, Moon Woo-shin would inevitably move his hand. Sliding the hand tucked beneath his clothes smoothly up his back, dragging it slowly down along his spine, tracing and retracing the line of his waist. Occasionally he would squeeze lightly at the back of his neck, or extend his fingertips as far as his shoulder.
It was hard to say anything about it, because every one of those movements came with guiding. Like he had an uncanny sense for it — his touch reaching only toward exactly where the Wavelength was most needed.
If Hae-il shifted his body on the pretense of being uncomfortable, the points of direct contact only became more immediate, which made things considerably worse. That was a far more explicit sensation than the guiding that diffused subtly outward.
……Just don’t let it show.
Having given up on everything else, Hae-il squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled a very carefully controlled, thin breath. At least he could hide his face — he was deeply, genuinely grateful for that much.
He was trying to breathe steadily without it being noticeable when Moon Woo-shin moved his hand again. This time it traveled below the small of his back, spreading the guiding Wavelength as it went. The yielding softness of the Wavelength and the rough texture of the palm made a contrast that coaxed a peculiar thrill out of him.
Hae-il bit hard into the inside of his cheek and opened his eyes.
This can’t go on.
His gaze shifted restlessly — and at exactly that moment, the outside came into view. The liquid, which only minutes ago had been reduced to a shallow enough level to barely cover his feet, was now gone entirely.
The moment he registered what was in front of him, Hae-il swiftly pushed Moon Woo-shin away and got off his lap.
As he put distance between them, he expanded the barrier dramatically at the same time. With more force than intended, the space that had been barely enclosing just the two of them suddenly grew to roughly three times its size.
“What’s wrong?”
Moon Woo-shin’s voice hit the back of his head. Standing with his back to him, Hae-il kept his posture straight and spoke in a voice he carefully arranged to sound casual.
“I think we can head out now.”
As he smoothed his expression and observed the outside, the sound of fabric shifting came from behind him. Then a familiar warmth drew close at his back.
He didn’t need to turn around to know that Moon Woo-shin was standing very near.
The tension spreading up along his spine made Hae-il clench his right hand in front of his body. Even the pain of his nails digging into his palm wasn’t enough to block out all of the sensation drifting toward him from behind.
“Yeah.”
A voice dropped half a tone lower, slightly husky, and it sounded unfamiliar.
Moon Woo-shin, who had been quiet as if carefully scanning the outside, soon laid out a plan.
“Don’t dispel this yet — can you lift us straight up with it intact? First let’s get up there and check the situation once more, and then….”
Hae-il tried to force the long string of words into his head, and thought to himself:
I really can’t… I can’t take guiding as just guiding.
His mouth tasted bitter, reconfirming something he hadn’t had to face in years.
***
Outside, it was the early hours before dawn. The deep darkness that had settled over everything was now filled not with the sound of surging liquid, but with still, quiet silence.
He confirmed with his own eyes that not a single drop of the liquid remained — but even then, he waited a good while longer before starting to withdraw the barrier, layer by layer, little by little. After checking multiple times, carefully and thoroughly, that it was safe, he pulled back the ability he’d anchored into the ground as well, and stepped onto the earth with caution.
On the ground swept clean by those waves, nothing was left. It had already been a desolate landscape without a single blade of grass or tree — and now that even the debris from outside the Gate had been erased, there was nothing at all to catch the eye. It was completely open and bare.
It felt like standing in a pitch-black desert. From the horizon far in the distance all the way to here, the only two things standing upright on the ground were Seo Hae-il and Moon Woo-shin.
“Do you see anything?”
Hae-il moved to Moon Woo-shin’s side as he scanned in every direction, and looked the same way.
“Clear.”
Even to an ordinary eye it had looked like there was nothing there, but he’d held out hope. As expected — no other living creatures inside.
Moon Woo-shin stood with his arms crossed, slightly sideways, brow furrowed lightly as he sank into thought. Hae-il’s gaze drifted naturally toward him.
He looked a little tired. Well — he had ended up staying awake through the entire night, after all. And the whole time, supporting Hae-il’s weight on top of that while staying concentrated on the guiding.
Just as an Esper couldn’t keep using their ability indefinitely without guiding, guiding wasn’t infinite for a guide either. After a long session of guiding, proper rest was necessary.
Hae-il was stealing glances at him when —
Moon Woo-shin suddenly extended his hand out of nowhere. The motion pushed forward at roughly waist height, with a fairly decisive reach. Startled, Hae-il took a large step back.
“What — why?”
Even in the dark, it was easy to see Moon Woo-shin’s expression crease further.
“Guiding index. What is it.”
“96 percent.”
Hae-il stayed where he was, a distance away, and turned only his wrist to show the watch face. Then as he was about to lower his hand again, it was caught before it fully came down.
He reflexively tried to pull it back — but it was already settled securely inside Moon Woo-shin’s large hand.
No, more accurately — he could have pulled it back, but he didn’t. It was baffling, the way it felt natural and comfortable, like it belonged there, after only a few days of contact guiding.
Proportional to how baffling that was, a voice thick with wariness came out.
“I don’t need guiding.”
“I know. I’m reading your Wavelength.”
A guiding Wavelength so faint it was almost ticklish tapped lightly at his fingertips. Then like mist, it seeped inward and spread all the way to his palm.
Hae-il suppressed both the urge to pull away and the body that wanted to press closer, and stood in place, shifting restlessly the way someone unable to settle does.
Moon Woo-shin, by contrast, stayed perfectly still in total concentration, and only released his hand after several minutes had passed.
“Looks like you’ve recovered. Let’s try it now.”
“Try what?”
“Breaking through the wall. That’s what we said.”
“Oh.”
That’s what we decided. Only a few hours ago, and yet for some reason it felt like the distant past.
“Is there a problem?”
“No? Sounds good, let’s do it.”
Hae-il answered as though it were nothing and started walking toward the edge of the Gate, toward the wall.
