* * *
“What if… he doesn’t want to see me…”
From Jehee’s perspective, I’m the bad guy.
I dragged him into the gate.
I’m the one who left him behind.
And now here I am, perfectly fine, hanging around him like nothing happened.
Of course it’d stress him out.
He probably can’t even stand the sight of me anymore.
Yesterday, he didn’t seem to blame me—but he’s had time to think.
His feelings might’ve changed.
He might’ve sunken deeper into depression.
Maybe his eyes are still puffy from crying… maybe he’s still crying right now…
“Music…”
What if he is crying?
I pressed my ear to the door to listen.
Thankfully, I didn’t hear any sobbing.
Just soft classical music.
No rustling, no sounds of movement.
It didn’t seem like anyone else was inside either.
I hesitated, rolling my eyes around as I debated what to do.
“Then… maybe I’ll just sneak a peek. Just to check how he’s doing…”
I still didn’t have the courage to face him directly.
But I couldn’t just keep loitering around either.
After all that talk about “taking responsibility,” I hadn’t done a damn thing yet.
My pride was wounded, but screw it.
I decided to lower the bar—just check if he’s okay today.
Then tomorrow, I’d try again and say hello properly.
Very slowly, I turned the doorknob.
Luckily, it opened quietly without a sound.
“……”
Just as I expected from outside—Jehee was alone.
He was lying neatly propped up in his bed, like he’d been positioned to sit comfortably.
He looked like he was sleeping.
No swollen eyes.
His expression was peaceful.
The whole room had a calm, restful atmosphere.
…It didn’t feel real somehow.
He just looked like he was napping.
The same Jehee I’d seen countless times since we were kids.
He didn’t look like someone who’d just lost his sight and the lower half of his body.
Not like the tragic protagonist of a sad story.
Maybe that’s why I let my guard down.
When I turned to leave, my legs got tangled.
“Who’s there?”
“…Ah.”
I didn’t fall to the floor.
I just couldn’t help but make a bit of noise as I barely managed to catch my balance.
But somehow, Jehee had already opened his eyes and turned toward me.
I couldn’t believe it.
The usual slow, dull Jehee wouldn’t have noticed a thing.
“Who’s there?”
“……”
It didn’t take long for me to realize why Jehee had reacted so sensitively to my footsteps.
His voice was trembling as he asked who I was.
He was afraid.
Even though he’d turned his head in my direction, Jehee couldn’t actually see me.
His dark pupils were flailing helplessly in the void.
That’s why even the smallest sound made him alert.
Because he couldn’t see anything.
Because he couldn’t protect himself.
My throat tightened.
But I couldn’t scare him any more than he already was.
I was the one who had left him in that condition.
“…It’s me. It’s me, Jehee. Im Taehwan.”
“Ah.”
Seeing Jehee’s mouth open, I steeled myself.
No matter what he said next, I’d accept it.
I wouldn’t get angry.
I wouldn’t break down. I’d just take responsibility.
Because Jung Jehee had every right to resent me.
“It was you, Taehwan! You’re here!”
But why… why did he smile like that?
At the sound of my name, Jehee’s face lit up—just like that day before his father passed away.
Bright and clear, not a shadow in sight.
“You really came. I thought you wouldn’t. Did you come alone? How’d you get here? Is it close by?”
“Uh… it’s not too far. I walked here.”
“Really? Thanks for coming. Ah, but I’m not exactly sure where you are right now… can you come over here?”
Jehee was brighter than I expected.
He didn’t hesitate around me.
He actually welcomed me.
When I stepped closer, he reached out and found my hand, chattering away happily as he held onto it.
It felt strange.
Since his father passed, had there ever been a time when Jehee greeted me this warmly?
I was always after the rest of his family…
The way he was now, cheerful and open, reminded me of when we were kids—of that little boy who had once seemed like a puppy.
It felt like we had gone back to before everything happened, to the Jung Jehee I missed so badly.
“Taehwan! I started learning Braille. I can’t go back to school yet, but if I get good at this, I can study again.”
“Nothing special happened at school, right? I wonder if my classmates are doing okay. I guess they’re too scared to visit now that I’m like this. It can’t be helped. I’m fine, though.”
“Hospital food’s bland, but it’s okay! It’s edible. It’s supposed to be healthy, anyway. And I don’t have to do the dishes here, so I think that’s kind of nice too.”
And it wasn’t just that one day.
Back then, the caregiver was curt and rarely listened to Jehee talk.
His younger siblings still needed a lot of attention, and his mother was too busy looking after them and making ends meet.
So Jehee, all alone, always waited for me.
Every single day.
Like a loyal puppy waiting for its owner to return from work.
“Let’s eat. Open up—ahh.”
“Ahh.”
“You got it on yourself. I’ll wipe it off. Hold still.”
“Mm. Thanks.”
With fewer things he could do on his own, Jehee came to rely on me more and more.
Eating, drinking water, moving around, washing up… even going to the bathroom.
I didn’t have much strength back then, so I had to borrow help from the adults too—but once I got bigger, I felt like I could do so much more for him.
“Hey, why’re you touching my hair? Did I spill something there too?”
“Not a spill—just praising you.”
“Did I do something worth praising?”
“You waited patiently.”
“…What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not a dog.”
“Should I stop?”
“Hmm… no. Sometimes, it’s okay.”
Outside of the moments where contact was necessary, I started touching Jehee more often.
Patting his back, ruffling his hair, holding his hand, even hugging him—he never resisted.
He just quietly let me.
Because he couldn’t see.
He needed to feel me by his side in ways other than sight.
I liked how often he touched my face now.
When Jehee still had his vision, he was always looking elsewhere—wondering who in the world might need him.
He never looked at me, right next to him.
But now, his hands, acting in place of his eyes, couldn’t grasp the whole world anymore.
And in their place, I could slip my face right into his palms.
I could become Jehee’s entire world.
“I… I’m a terrible person…”
Because of me, Jehee had lost so much.
He was a kid full of dreams.
There were so many things he wanted to do.
But in the prime of his youth—when he should’ve been shining the brightest—he lost a part of his body, lost his freedom, and ended up trapped in this small room.
He loved the world so much.
He wanted to go everywhere.
And before he even got to spread his wings, they were broken.
This… this wasn’t the life Jehee wanted.
It couldn’t be the happiness he dreamed of.
And yet, even knowing that, somewhere along the way, I started wishing this would last forever.
That every time I visited the hospital, he’d be there, waiting for me with that same smile.
That as long as he didn’t die… as long as he needed me and stayed here, relying on my touch… that would be enough.
I ignored my promises.
I abandoned my responsibilities.
And I stayed by his side for thirteen years.
“Don’t say pathetic crap like that. Just promise me one thing—you never give up on yourself. Trust me. I swear, I’ll make you happy, no matter what.”
All the while, spouting lies with the smoothest tongue.
Even though I was the one who said I’d make him happy… all I ever did was chase after my own.
I deceived him—this innocent boy who trusted me blindly just because we were childhood friends.
Maybe… maybe that’s why God, unable to bear how pitiful Jehee was, finally gave him a special gift.
“No. That can’t be it. It’s too sloppy for that.”
If there really was a God, He would’ve never given someone like Jehee such a cruel fate.
And He definitely wouldn’t have stuck someone as corrupt as me by his side.
…And He wouldn’t have given me the power to take it all away from Jehee again.
“……”
I placed my hand on Jehee’s wrist again, feeling for the restraining device with my fingertips.
What if I said it was “an internal injury caused by an awakened ability going out of control”?
That kind of incident can be fatal, especially for someone newly awakened and unable to control their power.
The odds of losing that power altogether are high.
It places a massive burden on the body, but with expensive treatment, you can still live a normal life.
You just wouldn’t be able to work as a Hunter or awakened anymore.
It wasn’t that rare.
Not common, but not unheard of either.
With my skills, it wouldn’t be hard to pass it off as an accident.
“…Ha. Im Taehwan, you fucking lunatic.”
Even though I’d pieced together a perfect plan, in the end, I pulled my hand away from Jehee’s wrist.
I ran my hand through my hair, tousling it, then covered my face with both hands.
The desire spreading in my mind refused to settle.
Clunk.
While he sat steeped in a silence heavy as lead, enduring time that stretched endlessly, he sensed someone near the window.
The presence wasn’t friendly.
He moved toward the window at once.
Pushing aside the curtain, he looked outside and quickly spotted a figure.
It seemed they had only come to check briefly and were now hurrying away from the hospital.
Eyes following the figure, he turned on his phone.
Dialing a number, it connected after just a few rings.
“Father.”
He didn’t wait for the warm greeting from the other side to finish before diving straight into the point.
“The contract—it’s time we changed our approach.”
* * *
