* * *
“And Ahn Seungjoon, your parents are visiting at the reception area. They called in earlier. So change into your civvies and go to the front desk by 11 to get your meds and a day pass.”
“Ah, yes! Got it!”
Seungjoon lit up like a puppy seeing its owner, his earlier sigh already forgotten.
You might say he looked too cheerful for someone with a ticking time bomb inside him, but both he and Haeram had been living in the hospital so long it had started to feel normal.
People born with the Guide gene but unable to awaken for various reasons—those whose guiding energy coiled dormant within them, slowly draining their lives—were called unawakened.
The symptoms were similar to cancer or autoimmune diseases, but the defining trait was this: none of them made it past their mid-20s.
Haeram would turn twenty-five this coming May.
“…Hyung. Haeram hyung.”
“Hmm?”
After Shim Jihye left the room, Seungjoon, now rustling around getting changed, called out to Haeram.
“Uh… If it’s okay with you, do you wanna come out with me? The hospital food sucks. I asked my dad last time, and he said it’s fine if you come with us this time.”
“Nah. It’s been a month since they’ve seen you. I’m not gonna get in the way of that.”
“It’s not getting in the way! I just… I want to hang out with you.”
Haeram smirked and pulled up the corners of his mouth.
“Let me guess. You’re embarrassed to tell your parents you haven’t awakened yet, so you wanna bring me along to dodge the convo? Don’t do that. You’ve still got five years left.”
“That’s not it! Seriously!”
“I’m fine. Really.”
Haeram gave Seungjoon a pat on the shoulder with a smile.
And he meant it. Every word.
Haeram’s parents had never once visited during his years-long hospital life, even though he was only allowed out once a month at best.
Not even when things got critical a year ago.
Their indifference didn’t need explaining.
But Haeram understood—they were barely surviving themselves.
So instead of resenting them, he just focused on awakening as soon as possible, so he could help his younger sibling.
He had no interest in exposing his personal situation to his roommate or being pitied.
“You’re gonna awaken soon and become a full-fledged Guide.”
“Ooh.”
“Don’t be surprised if the bed’s empty when you get back.”
“Please let it be!”
Seungjoon laughed, hacking a little as he did.
Leaving the excited Seungjoon behind as he got ready for his overnight stay, Haeram slowly got up from bed.
He wasn’t nearly as pumped, but still moved efficiently through his locker.
He pulled out a clean pair of socks, changed into a freshly steamed set of hospital clothes, folded the loose waistband twice to fit his frame, and wetted and brushed down his freshly trimmed hair.
But if you asked whether he was doing all this just to reassure Seungjoon, the answer would be no.
This was the one time of day Haeram actually got moving.
Thirty minutes from now was the start of Mind Training—three hours of holding hands, eye contact, and deep conversation with Seo Jungwoo, meant to draw out his guiding energy.
As awkward as his behavior could be, Seo Jungwoo was the most capable man in the country.
He always seemed to be giving his best.
Looking back on the past year, he’d done more than a few things to help Haeram.
Even when it wasn’t direct help, everything he did seemed to reflect positively onto Haeram.
‘So I should do my part too. Be respectful. Do everything I can. Work hard!’
Working hard was Haeram’s way of repaying those who helped him.
One of the few principles he lived by.
‘Except for working out…’
Still lost in thought, Haeram was walking toward the treatment ward when—
Rumble—
A thunderous boom split the sky.
The building shuddered faintly.
Haeram froze mid-step in the hallway as a bolt of black lightning slashed across the ashen sky beyond the trembling windows.
Judging from the impact, it must’ve been close to the capital.
He pulled out his phone to check the morning alerts stacking up.
Just as he thought—the Esper unit had closed a gate.
“Damn, what a mess.”
As he muttered, Haeram turned his head from the window.
He spotted Ms. Kim, the janitor he’d grown pretty familiar with, kneeling next to her toppled cart.
Cleaning supplies were scattered across the floor.
Haeram unplugged his earbuds and wound the white cord neatly.
He crouched down and began picking up the items that had rolled into the corners.
“No matter how many times I see it, it gives me chills. Right?”
Gate closures always hit like that.
Like an earthquake in the sky, rumbling and cracking with thunder.
The last wail of despair as that pitch-black maw slammed shut.
People always fell over from the shockwave.
Haeram just chuckled quietly.
“What, you’re not fazed at all?”
“Well, I am on my last legs, you know.”
“Ugh, don’t say that. You’re way younger and livelier than me.”
Smack. Her affectionate slap still stung. Haeram pouted.
“Why are you always like this with me, huh? You never say that to Seungjoon, even when he talks doom and gloom nonstop.”
“He doesn’t have any meat on him.”
At the jab about her slapping his “meaty” back, Haeram burst out laughing.
After picking up and returning the antiseptics, wipes, and gauze to her tray, Ms. Kim gave him another hearty pat and a thank-you.
He unwrapped the earbuds he had tucked in his pocket and popped them back in.
Right on cue, the gate closure alert blared in his ears.
“Wow, you still use those?”
Ms. Kim gestured to his ears. Her own shiny pink wireless earbuds looked nice even to Haeram.
“Hey, don’t you know analog’s the vibe these days?”
He beamed as he said it.
Ever since failing to awaken, Haeram’s inner clock had all but stopped.
His life moved slowly—just enough to keep going.
Maybe that’s why he never needed anything beyond the monthly welfare card the government gave him.
No bank balance, no credit card.
None of it bothered him.
It wasn’t laziness—it was a lack of desire.
That’s what Haeram believed.
“…Maybe it’s not manifesting because I don’t want* anything.”
Whenever he walked alone across the glass corridor connecting to Building E, where the Mind Training Clinic was, his pace would slow.
The transparent hallway offered an unobstructed view of the entire sky garden below, sunlight pouring over him.
In spring, that garden would burst into a riot of colors, blooming with every kind of flower.
The thought that he might not get to enjoy those upcoming spring flowers made Haeram’s shoulders sink a little—but only for a moment.
As usual, he reached to pat the front of his chest.
Nestled in the small front pocket was a single piece of milk candy—just one allowed per day.
He carefully unwrapped it, afraid he might drop it, and popped it into his mouth.
“Mmm…”
His body shivered at the sweetness, and his puffed cheek turned slightly pink.
Clutching the crinkled wrapper in his hand, Haeram threw both arms up into the air.
“Overcome!”
He couldn’t face Seo Jungwoo with a gloomy face.
Recharging with sugar like this on his way had become a kind of ritual, just for him.
* * *
