"Has it always been like this?"
"...What do you mean?"
"Have you always been guided by scum like him?"
Cha In-ho wore a slightly angry expression. However, since the anger wasn't directed at Joo-hyun, it wasn't frightening.
"Yes."
"..."
"That man is still better. He doesn't beat me to the point of breaking bones."
As Joo-hyun added this defensively, Cha In-ho's expression darkened further. Clicking his tongue softly, he carefully helped Joo-hyun to his feet.
Leaning heavily on his painful leg, which had worsened, Joo-hyun barely stood up as Cha In-ho supported him to the bed and sat him down. Kneeling before Joo-hyun, In-ho gently guided him, tending to his injured leg. It felt oddly like their roles had reversed from earlier.
"Why are you smiling?"
When In-ho glanced up and asked, Joo-hyun hurriedly pressed his lips together. He hadn't realised he was smiling. Seeing that it wasn't a question requiring an answer, In-ho continued guiding without pressing further.
"I'll take off the handcuffs later. I came in without even asking the staff."
After a moment of consideration, Joo-hyun used his ability to unlock the cuffs lightly. The clinking sound echoed behind him.
Most people felt reassured when a runaway esper was restrained. They believed they were safe with thin pieces of metal that any esper could easily tear apart.
However, Joo-hyun had a peculiar certainty that Cha In-ho wouldn't be afraid even with his limbs free. He observed In-ho, who, as expected, showed no fear and seemed somewhat relieved.
"Why are you here?"
In-ho's hand paused. When it resumed, it felt somehow gentler.
"Well..."
The excruciating pain in his leg gradually eased. For a B-grade guide, the speed was impressive.
"I initially came to end our match."
"..."
"If I stayed by your side any longer, I felt like I would die from stress."
The way In-ho gently massaged his leg, as if handling fragile glass, felt ticklish. Thinking it wasn't enough guiding, In-ho pressed his lips against Joo-hyun's knee.
That sight brought back memories of the video Joo-hyun had secretly watched on Doo-sik's computer a few days ago. A blood-soaked Joo-hyun and In-ho kissing him desperately, crying amidst the swirling dust. What had been on In-ho's mind as he embraced his limp body?
"...Are you really going to end it?"
Unintentionally, a weak voice like a dejected dog came out. Unable to meet his gaze, Joo-hyun fixed his eyes on In-ho's pretty hands wrapped around his knee.
"I don't know."
In-ho's hands were covered with several plasters. The wounds peeking out from beneath them looked as if they had been severely abraded by something, like someone had dug through collapsed concrete rubble.
"I really don't know."
In-ho murmured again, burying his face in Joo-hyun's leg. It seemed like he might cry, but Joo-hyun didn't feel any moisture.
"You're always difficult, Joo-hyun."
When In-ho raised his face, he was smiling. A resigned, affectionate smile too dazzling for Joo-hyun to handle.
"You can do as you please."
Joo-hyun, his eyes narrowed as if smiling or holding back tears, gazed at the sky split by the bars.
"I know I'm a bother, that I have no future, so just..."
In-ho's hair was remarkably soft as it brushed against his fingertips. Joo-hyun briefly wondered if it was like the fur of the cat he used to stroke long ago, now barely remembered.
He didn't say he had already given up. His pride was still too strong to openly admit he wanted guiding, that he wanted In-ho. Instead, he more boldly tousled the soft hair, hoping it would appear as though he was seeking guiding to heal his hands.
Perhaps his wish was granted, as In-ho said nothing. He didn't brush Joo-hyun's hand away, just buried his face in his knee again.
They had never been so intimately close before. It felt almost absurd that this would be his last day seeing In-ho. Ignoring the video replaying in his mind, Joo-hyun gently touched In-ho's scalp with his fingertips.
"I'll just guide you today and then leave."
After a time that felt both short and long, In-ho murmured and stood up from the floor. He caressed Joo-hyun's cheek a few more times before slowly turning away.
The guide who had been kicked out by In-ho was gone, not visible beyond the door.
"So... take care of yourself."
Whether he would return or definitively end their match, In-ho gave no clear answer and left, making Joo-hyun feel anxious.
Left alone, Joo-hyun took a deep breath, feeling his body, now much improved.
The staff member who entered with a disgruntled expression, as if disappointed Joo-hyun wasn't in worse shape, led him back to his room. In his now familiar white hoodie, Joo-hyun lay on the bed.
In-ho had come, his wounds were still not fully healed, he didn't know if there would be a next time, and all he could do was curl up miserably like a dog waiting for its master. Yet, despite it all, he didn't feel bad.
He remembered In-ho's voice crying over him amidst the swirling concrete dust. Was it wrong to feel joy at another's sorrow?
Joo-hyun, who had never been a good person, pulled his hood up and savoured the comfort. As long as the guiding lasted, he could pretend he still had a matching guide. Comforted by this thought, he closed his red eyes.
* * *
A week had passed since the last guiding. Joo-hyun walked through the corridor, following the staff member, unaware of who was in the guiding room. The current staff was taciturn, with almost no expression, providing no information.
Joo-hyun decided not to expect anything. Hope was another word for greater despair, and hope always lurked like a swamp, waiting to pull him down. The cruelest aspect of hope was its persistence, the more one tried to drive it away.
The emotion filled his chest, ready to swallow the desperate whole and tear them apart with sharp teeth.
So, Joo-hyun imagined the worst. That the guide who had hurt and frightened him most was beyond the door. Only then did he feel hope recede a little.
The staff member opened the door. Joo-hyun bit his tongue, staring at the floor.
'Maybe the guide who enjoyed beating me heard the news and came. Maybe the person who especially liked me is back. Maybe a sharp whip...'
"It's been a week, hasn't it?"
Joo-hyun looked up. Cha In-ho was sitting in a large, comfortable-looking chair, smiling faintly.
Tap. The staff member who had lightly pushed Joo-hyun closed the door behind him. The room was now just the esper and the guide, alone.
For the first time, hope remained just hope, leaving Joo-hyun speechless and standing there. Cha In-ho, seeming to recall something, tapped the armrest of his yellow chair.
"I've thought for a while that the chair was too uncomfortable. Since I'll be coming here regularly, it's better to have a comfortable one."
The large chair, which could pass for a single sofa, was placed opposite a table, facing each other.
"It was quite a hassle to bring it up here."
In-ho's easy smile seemed somewhat shy.
Joo-hyun slowly walked over and stopped in front of his chair. He picked up the brown cushion not present on In-ho's chair, squeezing the soft padding with his palm.
"There was a broadcast yesterday. Did you see it?"
Episode 10 of Gate Date aired yesterday. Other colleagues had suggested watching it together, but Joo-hyun had declined, saying he already knew everything. Despite the flimsy excuse, no one had insisted.
Joo-hyun didn't want to see himself acting clumsily on screen, especially not the version of him happily matched with In-ho, unaware of what was to come. For these reasons, he had avoided watching the broadcast.
"No, I didn't see it."
The runaway esper, now cautiously seated in the chair, looked at In-ho. The guide blushed slightly, clearly indicating that bringing such a large chair must have been quite a task.
But Joo-hyun suspected that In-ho's flushed cheeks weren't just from exertion—another name for this suspicion was hope.
"I'll keep striving so that you don't lose the thought that we're a good match," Cha In-ho added earnestly.
With that, he smiled softly, almost childlike. In that smile, Joo-hyun saw a glimpse of a seat that seemed to evoke some kind of memory, stirring the emotions.
For the first time, Joo-hyun returned a sincere smile to Cha In-ho. The guide's eyes widened in surprise. The upcoming summer was palpable. Joo-hyun wondered if he was battling these feelings alone or if there was something more he needed to understand.