* * *
“Now where was it…?”
Apparently, Seo Jungwoo wasn’t joking when he said, “Come find me in my room.”
The clinic was empty.
With no other choice, Haeram headed toward his teacher’s quarters.
The very top floor of Building E, in its farthest corner—the room of his assigned Esper, said to be the most secretive among all the Mind Trainers.
Haeram pushed the door open without even knocking.
“Hello—!”
He dragged the word out cheerfully, trying his best to sound bright.
Still, compared to when he first met Seo Jungwoo, he’d become much more at ease.
A year ago, when he’d just come out of intensive care and was introduced to this new form of training, he’d almost fainted.
Three hours a day, every day, even weekends—holding hands and making eye contact with his assigned Esper?
And that Esper was…
‘Why does he look so pale? Am I… that good-looking?’
‘Is that really the Seo Jungwoo?’
‘Who is Seo Jungwoo anyway?’
‘Wait, what? Why? Isn’t he supposed to be busy?’
When he first learned Seo Jungwoo was his assigned Esper, Haeram couldn’t believe it.
A man who was practically a celebrity among Espers—always on TV—what was he doing here, holding hands with patients in a quiet corner of a hospital?
It had been stiff and awkward at first, but now it was nearing a year since they’d started meeting daily.
That meant roughly a thousand hours spent together.
Unlike Seungjoon, who constantly tried to ditch his sessions—his Esper was said to be especially strict—Haeram was different.
Or to be honest, he kind of liked it.
What had once been awkward and surreal—holding hands with an Esper, feeling that odd tingling deep inside—had become something he looked forward to.
He often thought, ‘If only I’d met him a year earlier, maybe I could’ve manifested before my time ran out.’
Not that anything had changed—despite a whole year of training, the graph hadn’t budged.
“Ahem, um, sir? Are you here?”
Feeling a bit awkward, Haeram scratched his cheek and stepped inside.
The room was dim, and there wasn’t the faintest hint of presence.
Seo Jungwoo had always said he could sense Haeram’s presence the moment he left his ward in Building D, long before he even stepped into the elevator.
There’s no way he wouldn’t know someone had entered. Still, Haeram edged in further and raised his voice.
“Sir? It’s me, Haeram.”
As far as he could remember, Seo Jungwoo had never missed a session.
Rather than being offended, a wave of worry washed over him.
‘What could’ve happened…?’
The soft scent of Seo Jungwoo’s cologne lingered in the stillness of the room.
Haeram had never fully believed he was the only patient, but it was true the man always seemed… available.
So where had he gone?
“……”
Haeram placed a hand on the smooth, bean-shaped desk and peeked around.
The back of the room was hidden by a partition curtain—a space he’d visited a few times but never been inside.
‘Maybe he’s sleeping back there?’
He stepped closer to check—just as the lights clicked on with a soft snap.
Startled, Haeram spun around—and locked eyes with Seo Jungwoo, who had just walked in.
His black eyes quickly swept over Haeram before his expression settled again.
“Ah, um, I thought maybe you were here…”
“Sorry I’m late.”
The ends of Seo Jungwoo’s dark hair were still damp.
Haeram blinked, wondering, ‘Did he just shower?’
But as the man stepped closer, a faint smell of ash clung to him.
“Uh… just a sec. Your collar.”
Haeram reached up and pulled out the turned-in flap of Seo Jungwoo’s white coat.
It was strange to see him less than perfectly put together.
“…Oh.”
He hadn’t meant to stare at his neck, but something caught his eye.
A faint red smear, like blood, stained the edge of his shirt collar.
Dried flecks of red dotted the stiff fabric, seeping into the fibers.
As Haeram stared, he thought he could almost smell iron.
His eyelashes fluttered before he could stop himself.
“…Sorry. Can you wait just a moment?”
Seo Jungwoo walked past, brushing Haeram with a chill that hadn’t been there before.
He stepped behind the partition—into the space Haeram had never entered—sprayed on cologne, then returned.
When he sat across from him on the sofa, the usual pleasant scent had returned.
No trace of that earlier coldness.
‘He’s fine.’
Haeram had missed his chance to say anything.
Had Seo Jungwoo noticed something on his face?
Haeram studied him, worried, but couldn’t read anything in his calm expression.
“Alright, let’s begin.”
A hand, slightly larger than Haeram’s, reached out.
Caught off guard, Haeram’s fingers were pulled between Seo Jungwoo’s, the spaces between them filled, their hands locked together.
Once their fingers interlocked like that, Haeram’s body always went slack.
The first time they’d done this training—this “Mind Training”—his first thought was that it felt like falling into a trance.
And once his body relaxed, that’s when the questions began.
“Did you sleep well last night?”
“Yes. I mean, kind of. I think I tossed and turned a bit.”
“Hmm… Why’s that? Did you have a bad dream?”
The questions always followed the same pattern.
Little things no one ever asked about—how Haeram was feeling, the tiny, everyday details of his life.
“It wasn’t that… It’s just…”
“Just?”
Feeling drowsy, Haeram almost blurted the truth before quickly biting his lip.
“Lately, you keep showing up in my dreams. Completely naked. And then we, uh… do all kinds of weird things.”
Yeah, no way he could say that.
He hurried to change the subject.
“I was hungry.”
Seo Jungwoo chuckled, his eyes curving softly.
“If that’s all it was, then that’s fine.”
Cute.
Haeram couldn’t tell if the softly whispered words were a response or just something said to himself.
But all he could do was keep holding eye contact—because, for some reason, that was the rule, and he was doing his best to follow it.
Seo Jungwoo’s eyes were pitch black.
A deep darkness that seemed to swallow up all the light.
And whenever they locked eyes and spoke like this, every so often, his irises would flicker with an eerie glint.
In the dream, they were more red…
“Ugh…”
At times like this, the inside of his elbow would tingle and spark oddly.
A strange sensation would rush through his body, making even his bones feel itchy.
Maybe because of the dream, but today, that feeling was stronger than usual.
Unable to endure it, Haeram leaned back, breaking off his answer mid-sentence.
There wasn’t even anywhere to escape to with the sofa’s backrest behind him.
“Haeram, shh… Breathe slowly.”
“Y-Yeah… Okay…”
The strength in their entwined hands felt more urgent than usual.
Maybe it was the bloodstain on his shirt collar, or maybe it was an unfamiliar scent—whatever it was, Haeram’s breath came short.
He shifted his gaze, avoiding Seo Jungwoo’s intense black eyes for a moment to steady his breathing.
“Are you uncomfortable?”
“No, not exactly…”
“Mmh, still a long way to go.”
That same patterned question was followed by the same light chuckle.
If Haeram asked what was still far off, Jungwoo would usually reply that he should feel uncomfortable.
On a normal day, Haeram might’ve made that same retort—but today wasn’t a normal day.
“It’s your turn now, Haeram.”
“Hmm…”
Maybe it was seeing a different side of him, but Haeram suddenly thought back to the first time they met.
After finally being taken off life support after a month, the first thing he saw were those pitch-black eyes.
He wanted to ask something Jungwoo wouldn’t expect.
Not to see him flustered, not even to see him surprised…
Just—something else.
* * *
