* * *

“……”

I had agreed to indulge Eunsoo’s stubbornness, but the expression on his face as he looked at me was peculiar.

Instead of joy, he just stared at me intently.

Had I done something wrong again?

“What’s wrong?”

Eunsoo didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out toward my face.

His fingertips grazed my bangs before settling gently on my forehead.

His hand lingered there for a moment, covering my forehead as if to envelop it, then slowly trailed down my face.

Soon, his other hand joined in, cupping my cheeks.

His thumbs traced along my eyebrows, eyelids, the bridge of my nose, the philtrum, and finally my lips.

It felt as though he was memorizing my features with his fingertips.

When his fingers brushed the corners of my eyes, I opened them slightly and asked, “Do I feel unfamiliar to you because it’s been so long?”

“It’s not unfamiliarity, exactly…”

Eunsoo’s eyebrows softened as he responded.

“I missed you. I missed you so much that just looking at you isn’t enough anymore.”

“What does that even mean?”

I chuckled, amused yet understanding.

I had felt something similar.

I had missed Eunsoo so terribly, waited for him for so long, that merely seeing him wasn’t enough.

Only when I could take in his scent and feel his warmth did I feel truly at ease.

Letting him touch my face was no big deal. I closed my eyes and let his soft hands roam over my face.

Those hands, untouched by hardship, caressed my face over and over—sometimes with fingertips, sometimes with his palms, as if he wanted to absorb every sensation of me into himself.

Finally, after gently stroking my ears, his hands dropped.

I thought it was over, but when I opened my eyes, I was met with an unexpected sight: Eunsoo was looking at me with a deeply sorrowful expression.

“Uncle, I was wrong.”
Then, out of nowhere, he blurted, “I was so jealous. I felt like I wasn’t as important to you as other people.”

What was my boy trying to say?

I didn’t understand what he was apologizing for, but his reason struck a chord in my chest.

Had I made him feel neglected without even realizing it?

I quickly locked eyes with him and spoke earnestly.

“You’re my number one.”

“I’m not.” Eunsoo averted his gaze, gripping my hand tightly—so tightly it hurt.

When he spoke again, his voice was heavy with sadness.

“You’re the only one I have. That’s the difference between us. That’s why we can’t fully understand each other.”

“That’s not true. Why would you say that…?”

This wasn’t like him.

Eunsoo, who was destined to become a hero cherished by the three Espers and adored by the world, sounded so insecure.

It wasn’t like the Eunsoo I knew.

The Eunsoo I knew was always brimming with confidence.

Was it because I’d been sick so often that it had weakened his resolve?

My chest ached with guilt, but as his guardian, I couldn’t let him see my vulnerability.

I took both of his hands in mine and held them tightly.

“Eunsoo, your world feels small right now because you’ve only been to school, home, and the Agency. It might make me seem bigger than I really am. But the world is vast, and there are so many people in it. Sure, there are bad people, but there are plenty of good ones too. When you grow up, you should travel, go on business trips, meet lots of people. The more opportunities and relationships you have, the richer your life will be. Make friends, find someone to love, even build sibling-like bonds. You don’t have to focus solely on me.”

“……”

Of course, it might be hard to find anyone as handsome, intelligent, wealthy, kind, and competent as the three Espers, who were practically designed to be his ideal partners.

But even if Eunsoo ultimately fell for one of them, I wanted him to see a larger world, to meet more people.

Even if it meant he’d outgrow me.

“I told you, I don’t want that. I only need you.”

“Eunsoo…”

But he was stubborn. He shook his head vehemently, refusing to listen.

“See? You don’t get it. You’ll never understand how I feel.”

His reddened eyes left me speechless.

Adolescence… it’s so complicated.

Was I like this at his age?

Probably. I remember feeling frustrated, wanting recognition, yearning to prove myself while the world kept telling me I was too young, too immature.

The difference was that I’d been used to giving up, so I’d managed it quietly.

But Eunsoo was my opposite.

Having been forced to give up too much as a child, he now clung fiercely to his desires and pride.

Nothing I said would reach him.

Forcing the issue would only harm the Eunsoo I loved so dearly.

“Maybe time will fix this…”

Once he fully embraced his role as a Guide and worked closely with the three Espers, his world would naturally expand.

He’d soon realize how small my place in his life really was.

Right now, there was only one thing I could say to him.

“…I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so lacking and making things hard for you.”

In the end, it seemed I hadn’t been a good guardian to either Huimang or Eunsoo.

No wonder time-travel stories are so popular.

People are always filled with regrets. If I’d already come this far, could I be granted one more chance…?

Not that I’d actually want it.

If I went back, my memories with this Eunsoo would vanish.

Even if given the chance, I’d hesitate to take it. I just hoped I wasn’t the worst guardian Eunsoo could’ve had.

Still fatigued from my recent discharge, I felt drained.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

“What a mess.”

I had wanted to make Eunsoo’s first birthday something special, but I’d failed.

Faced with the gap between ideals and reality, I felt powerless.

“Uncle.”

I was resting my eyes when Eunsoo suddenly clasped my hands tightly in his.

His grip, firm and insistent, seemed to beg for my attention, so I opened my eyes.

“You said today’s your birthday too. So I’ll give you a present. Just this once. For the last time, I’ll be a ‘good boy.’”

And then I saw them—his sparkling blue eyes gazing at me with a smile.

Their radiant hue was mesmerizing, as if pulling me into their depths.

“Thank you for celebrating my birthday. I was happy. It was the best birthday of my life.”

Then Eunsoo’s lips curved into a soft smile.

He reached out, pulling me into a tight embrace.

With his lips close to my ear, he whispered,

“…I love you.”

Hearing those words, I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from trembling.

Soon, I was smiling too.

The heavy weight of helplessness lifted, replaced by an overwhelming sense of joy.

The best birthday of his life. Eunsoo said he loves me.

With just a few words, he made up for all the pain I’d endured.

I feel bad for Eunsoo, who had to spend his late teens with someone as inadequate as me, but the truth is, my dull life became brilliantly illuminated because of him.

I’m content with this life. I can leave it smiling now.

“Yeah. I love you too, Eunsoo.”

---

I had done everything I could for the child.

All that was left was for me to leave.

Or so I thought—until an unexpected problem arose.

Eunsoo suddenly fell ill.

It started with a slight fever, followed by constant fatigue.

He would nod off like a sickly chick while eating and struggled to wake up even when I tried.

This child, who had always been so robust.

Worried sick, I dragged him to the hospital, but the only diagnosis I received was that he was “too healthy” and I shouldn’t be concerned.

If he wasn’t sick, there could only be one explanation.

My child, juggling school entrance exams with housework, had exhausted himself.

When I was hospitalized, his stress must have peaked, and once I returned home, his relief had finally allowed his body to rest.

Even just knowing this suffocated me with guilt, but then something even more shocking happened.

Eunsoo gave up on his essay exams.

That ambitious child.

“I’m fine. There’s only one school left now, and I can apply everywhere else with my regular scores. I don’t need to take the essay exams anymore.”

“But—”

“Sorry, but I’m so tired. Wake me up for dinner, okay?”

“…Okay.”

Even though Eunsoo’s regular exam scores were good, his poor GPA made it nearly impossible for him to apply to top universities’ elite departments.

Essay exams were his best shot at reaching higher, and he had ground his teeth and studied relentlessly for them.

Yet, he gave them up so easily, just like that.

How hard must things have been for him, to the point where he abandoned the fruits of his labor so close to the finish line?

Watching him sleep like the dead when he should have been heading to an exam left me feeling hollow.

“I’ll do my guide work properly, so stop meeting those people. Don’t ever meet them behind my back,” he said.

Despite being so drowsy, he still faithfully went to work, driven by his attachment to his espers.

I worried endlessly about whether he was truly okay, but messages from the field confirmed he was doing fine.

As for me, whether out of sheer determination to hold on while Eunsoo was unwell or as a final burst of energy before the end, my condition improved to the point where I felt like my pre-leave self again.

Thanks to that, I could go out alone and prepare for my departure, including buying gifts.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

* * *