* * *
Which meant this weird dream was definitely Seo Jungwoo’s fault.
Seo Jungwoo the Esper. Or rather, instructor Seo Jungwoo.
“Our Haeram… just what kind of thoughts are running through your head to make your face look like that, hmm?”
Jungwoo let go of the hand he was holding and reached over Haeram’s body.
His long fingers lightly traced up from wrist to arm, brushing along the shoulder.
Right when they were about to touch his cheek, Haeram flinched and recoiled.
Then, shocked again—this time by his own exaggerated reaction.
“Th-thoughts? What thoughts are you talking about…”
“Hmmm—”
Jungwoo wrinkled his nose as Haeram batted his hand away.
“If you keep losing focus like this, we might need to try something else tomorrow.”
“Something else?”
With all ten of his gentle fingers, Jungwoo clasped both of Haeram’s hands and pulled them toward him.
“Holding hands doesn’t seem to be cutting it.”
“It’s enough! It’s more than enough!”
Despite his constant denial, Haeram’s face flushed red as if Jungwoo had seen straight into his head—where images of the man’s bare body kept playing uninvited.
The table hit his knee with a dull thud, and the mood in the quiet treatment room shifted.
A faint, murky ripple hovered above Jungwoo’s shoulders.
Without a word, Jungwoo pulled a small, jet-black piece of metal from his coat and shoved it into his earlobe.
Snap!
The sound of skin being pierced rang out, followed by a trickle of red blood down his hand.
His face didn’t twitch, not even a flinch—he just smiled like always.
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
Oddly enough, the one grimacing now was Haeram.
Espers had incredible healing abilities, so only a drop of blood had spilled, and the torn earlobe had already sealed itself around the metal.
Still, Haeram wasn’t an Esper—just watching it felt painful to him.
“It’s because I’m lacking.”
The blood on Jungwoo’s fingers was so vividly red, it felt surreal.
He casually licked it off, then smiled softly.
That glimpse of his red tongue stole Haeram’s attention again.
He took Haeram’s hands in his once more.
“Every time I hold your hands and sit with you like this, I keep reacting.”
“…Reacting? What do you mean?”
“If I don’t wear a suppressor like this, I can’t hold it back.”
His expression was dramatically pitiful, but his eyes were full of mischief.
Haeram’s gaze followed his, and there—he saw the obvious bulge in Jungwoo’s pants.
“When are you going to take responsibility for this?”
“Huh?”
‘Why is that my responsibility?’
Haeram’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and Jungwoo chuckled like he was enjoying every second.
“Since you’re the one who made me like this… I’d really appreciate it if you’d guide me.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Ah, our Haeram—how are you ever going to manifest like this? Or do you not want to?”
Low blow.
Talking about manifestation was cheating.
More than anyone, Haeram wanted to manifest.
No one really wanted to die, right?
His throat tightened with emotion, but just then—
A knock at the door.
The attending physician walked into the treatment room.
“Did today’s training go well?”
Tucking Haeram’s chart under his arm, the doctor smiled warmly and sat down at his desk.
Haeram didn’t miss the chance—he quickly moved away from Jungwoo and sat down in the round rolling chair near the doctor.
Looking over the chart, the doctor spoke up.
“From your latest wave analysis, it looks like we won’t need to increase the dosage. Are you sleeping okay at night?”
“Yes.”
“Any particular pain or discomfort?”
“Just the occasional stomachache. Ahem, and the chest tightness went away after switching meds. I still have a bit of a cough, and some dizziness…”
If he talked too long, the coughing would get worse, so Haeram cleared his throat constantly as he quietly reported his condition.
The doctor nodded gently, his gaze full of warmth, and thanks to that, Haeram could speak comfortably.
This doctor had replaced his previous one about a year ago, and since then—along with a new training program—Haeram’s daily life had improved a lot.
While the two talked over minor symptoms, Jungwoo stood silently, leaning against the wall.
His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, muscles pressing hard against the sleeves, making his upper arms look like they might burst—intimidating, to say the least.
He didn’t say a word until Haeram finished his check-up and shrugged on his fleece-lined hospital jumper.
“Are you cold, Haeram? Is the hospital heating not good enough?”
“What, are you planning to do construction work to fix the heating?”
The doctor chuckled and chimed in, making Jungwoo twitch an eyebrow.
Haeram quickly waved his hands.
“No, it’s just a side effect of the new meds. I get chills sometimes…”
He meant to clear up any misunderstanding, but Jungwoo’s expression darkened.
Even if it wasn’t directed at him, Haeram flinched.
Trying to hide his panic just made him fumble more.
His steps toward the door were clumsy.
Haeram wanted to walk back to his room alone, but of course, Jungwoo and the doctor trailed right behind him.
This had been happening for a year now, and today was no different.
Haeram glanced around nervously as they walked.
The ward Haeram was staying in was for Guides only—specifically, those suffering from conditions related to delayed manifestation.
It was connected to the treatment building via a long skybridge.
It had originally been dark and gloomy, but Jungwoo had paid to have the walls replaced with full glass.
He claimed the lack of sunlight made him depressed.
So naturally, the doctor joked about asking for heating next.
Haeram couldn’t disagree.
Walking back and forth every day through a dim corridor was depressing.
The sunlight was nice—but being visible to everyone wasn’t.
For instance, like now.
Everyone in the sky garden, clearly visible through the glass, turned to look at them.
No—at Jungwoo, to be exact.
Some even saluted. Not that the man in question paid them any mind.
‘Jeez, it’s not like I can snap at someone who’s nice enough to see me off every day.’
Haeram dipped his head to avoid the stares.
With glass walls on both sides, there was nowhere to hide.
He made a mental note: Tomorrow, stand in the middle between them.
Just then, Jungwoo extended an arm and pulled Haeram closer by the shoulders.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
“Huh? N-no. I’m fine.”
His tone was overly sweet—probably because the doctor was within earshot.
That scowl from earlier was gone, replaced by a bright, radiant smile.
What the hell…
Instinctively, Haeram met his eyes for a second before looking away again.
He was uncomfortable.
Who wouldn’t be?
The whole country knew Jungwoo’s face, and here he was, hanging around the hospital saying he was treating him—ditching his missions and everything.
How could that not be uncomfortable?
Even if, technically, it wasn’t like he was slacking off…
Seo Jungwoo quietly swallowed a sigh, careful not to let Haeram notice—but apparently, even that was heard, as the hand on his shoulder subtly tightened its grip.
“If this bothers you, then from now on, let’s train in my room. Just the two of us. We got interrupted again today.”
“…That’s…”
Unable to outright deny it, Haeram just moved his lips without saying a word.
Jungwoo tousled his hair with a soft smile.
* * *
