* * *
Their lips were pressed together intensely.
Normally, Hajin’s movements would have been forceful enough to swallow Suhyeon whole, but today they were sluggish.
That alone was enough to gauge just how abnormal his condition was.
As their tongues tangled and the heat rose, Suhyeon felt the flow of guiding energy intensify.
His head spun for a moment.
Guiding a person directly was worlds apart from training.
High-rank Espers were said to require double the amount of guiding waves to fill their levels, even with good compatibility.
Or perhaps it was just because it was Hajin.
As Suhyeon poured out his energy as if giving away his very soul, exhaustion rushed over him at an alarming rate.
He shifted his gaze to Hajin’s watch and saw the number on the screen had climbed to 78%.
Panting for breath, Suhyeon pulled his lips away.
A thin thread of saliva stretched between them before breaking.
He felt the strength leave the arms that had been holding him.
Hajin’s blue eyes, unfocused and hazy as if he couldn’t quite snap back to reality, looked down at Suhyeon blankly.
“Haah…….”
Only his lips, exhaling heavy breaths, remained wet and red.
Suhyeon looked up at him and interlaced their fingers.
He didn’t have the strength to press his lips back to Hajin’s.
Even in his exhausted state, Suhyeon drew out more waves through their joined hands.
79%, 80%.
The numbers rose agonizingly slowly.
Then, just as Suhyeon thought Hajin’s eyes had drifted shut from weakness—
“……!”
Suhyeon’s light-brown eyes snapped wide, trembling.
The guiding waves that had been surging out faltered. Hajin’s body tilted forward.
“……Uh, ah?! Team Leader!”
The person who had been watching Suhyeon’s guiding in a daze from the side let out a scream.
Thud.
Suhyeon, unable to withstand the weight of the unconscious Hajin collapsing into his arms, fell backward with him.
Hajin’s eyelids remained tightly shut.
His long, black lashes cast deep shadows over his face.
Beep, beep, beep!
The frantic alarm from the watch on Hajin’s wrist echoed dully in Suhyeon’s ears.
“Why……?”
His confusion lasted only a moment before the color drained from Suhyeon’s face.
Hajin had collapsed.
‘Why?’
His heart sank.
Had something gone wrong?
Who should he tell? Where should he go?
“Te-Team Leader, wake up! Team Leader?”
The person shaking Hajin, their face turning pale with panic after standing there stupidly with Suhyeon, didn’t seem like they would be much help.
The hospital. The ward.
The Association medical wing.
Right, he had to go where Yihan had told him.
How? Who should he ask?
Who could help—A doctor. First, a doctor.
Suhyeon whipped out the phone from his pocket.
He scrambled through his sparse contact list, searching for a number.
Fortunately, the recipient picked up before the second ring.
—Hello, Suhyeon-ah?
“……Yihan-hyung.”
Suhyeon barely managed to force the words out.
His usually steady voice wavered noticeably.
—……Is something wrong? Does your chest—is your chest hurting again?
Sensing something was wrong, Yihan asked urgently amidst the sound of a clatter on the other end.
But it wasn’t Suhyeon who was hurting.
Suhyeon pressed down the tremor in his voice.
What if something was terribly wrong?
Why did this happen?
His mind was a mess.
He finally managed to speak.
“Hajin… I was guiding Hajin and he collapsed…”
—……What?
After a long silence, Yihan asked again.
An uneasy stillness settled over the line.
Hajin was moved to the Association medical ward, and even after the initial examination and Yihan’s arrival for further tests, he did not wake up.
Suhyeon stared intently at the reclining Hajin.
His closed eyelids didn’t move.
Only the thumping of Suhyeon’s own heart echoed in his ears.
‘Was this how Hajin felt every time he stood by my side when I collapsed? ……I hate this.’
“……Haa.”
After some time, Yihan let out a deep sigh, breaking the silence.
Suhyeon’s eyes, which had been fixed solely on Hajin, flickered.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with this crazy bastard, seriously.”
Suhyeon had been gripping his own fingers so hard the knuckles turned white while waiting for the verdict, but what came out of Yihan’s mouth was a string of foul curses.
Suhyeon blinked.
“This piece of @#!%^&, I swear…….”
Yihan glared fiercely at Hajin, muttering incomprehensible profanities.
Then, before Suhyeon could even ask if he was okay, Yihan whipped his head around toward the medical staff waiting nearby.
“Can someone get me this b— this guy’s guiding history?”
“Ah, yes.”
With a few clicks, a sheet of paper was quickly printed and handed to Yihan.
He stared at it for a long time before his body began to tremble with rage.
“This…… this…… @#$%%#@$@@#!”
A few seconds later, the room was filled with loud, unintelligible shouting.
The medical staff glanced at each other awkwardly, and Hajin’s colleague, who had been there for the collapse, looked visibly shaken.
Suhyeon, still unable to grasp the situation, bit his lip and looked at Yihan.
“……Is it serious?”
“Is it serious?!”
Yihan, unable to contain his agitation, snapped his head around, but seeing it was Suhyeon who asked, he quickly softened his gaze.
Pressing his temples as if he had a massive headache, Yihan let out another long sigh and shook his head.
“……No. It’s not serious at all, so don’t worry.”
Yihan muttered his reply while typing something into a tablet and handing it back to the staff.
The medical team filed out of the room shortly after.
Only Suhyeon, Yihan, and Hajin’s colleague remained.
Yihan glanced at the colleague and scribbled something on a post-it note.
“Could you deliver this to the Association President? It’s really no big deal, so you can head out now.”
“……Ah, understood.”
The man took one last look at the unconscious Hajin, took the note from Yihan, and left the room.
Now, it was truly just Hajin, Suhyeon, and Yihan.
Yihan looked at Suhyeon, then back at Hajin.
He looked at Suhyeon again, then back at Hajin, before letting out a sigh of pure frustration.
“This has nothing to do with that, he’s just a hopeless bastard…….”
Muttering more curses under his breath, Yihan tapped a nearby stool.
Suhyeon sat down obediently. His light-brown eyes were still fixed on Hajin.
Even though he heard it wasn’t serious, Hajin was an S-rank Esper.
What on earth could cause someone like him to collapse?
“It’s simple guiding deficiency.”
Suhyeon blinked.
He looked back at Yihan, who sighed again and showed him the paper the staff had brought.
On the short table was Shin Hajin’s name along with his guiding records.
“The number of times he’s received guiding in the last three months is only ten. And even then, the levels only hit a maximum of 55%. For a man who treats going in and out of Gates like a daily commute…… he’s insane. He’s definitely lost it.”
Yihan sighed and tapped the watch on Hajin’s wrist.
The screen lit up, showing a level of 79%.
Yihan sighed yet again.
“You guided him, right?”
Suhyeon nodded.
“The crazy bastard seems to have been maintaining the absolute bare minimum right before the danger zone until he got guiding from you. ……Argh, I can’t even look at him, argh!”
Yihan let out a weird groan and kicked the base of the bed Hajin was lying on.
The metal frame didn’t budge.
Trembling with frustration, Yihan scratched his head and let out another—who knows how many by now—deep sigh.
“……Anyway, don’t worry. He was in a state of chronic guiding deficiency, and then he just blacked out after getting a sudden hit of your guiding. Whew. Ah, right. It seems you can guide now. Congratulations…… As for Shin Hajin there, he’s basically just having a peaceful nap, so there’s no need to worry. This is so annoying, seriously.”
Yihan’s explanation, which started calmly, took a brief detour into a congratulation before returning to a dark, gradual anger.
He stood up abruptly.
“Call me when he wakes up. Ugh, having him as a friend is the curse of my life…… ugh!”
Click.
With a final remark that he was annoyed even hearing the ‘Shin’ in ‘Shin Hajin,’ Yihan stomped out of the room.
Suhyeon watched the door close and then turned his head back.
‘At least it means nothing is physically wrong or broken.’
The anxiety that had been pounding in his heart slowly began to recede.
Perhaps because he was told it was close to a deep sleep, Hajin—who had looked so precarious just a moment ago—now looked quite peaceful as he breathed evenly.
Relief washed over him.
Sitting in the chair, Suhyeon leaned forward and rested his head on the edge of Hajin’s bed.
As his tense muscles relaxed, the forgotten fatigue came crashing down.
The aftermath of his first real guiding was quite powerful.
Under the pouring rays of the setting sun, Suhyeon blinked slowly until he unknowingly drifted off to sleep.
When he woke up, it was night.
* * *
