IG Chapter 10

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“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“What did I do?”

“Right now—”

“Strange, I’m not doing anything right now?”

His insides boiled. For all his innocent act, he was using his ability to hold the door shut right now. Did he think Se-hyeon, a guide, wouldn’t notice that? Se-hyeon’s eyes sharpened.

“Open it.”

“We’ve got plenty of time. Stay a little longer.”

“I want to go home.”

“Isn’t it too soon to be inviting me home?”

“What—!”

Se-hyeon huffed. The man talking about pacing was absurd.

“You’re the one who took me home with you!”

“I can, but our guide is a different story.”

“What’s different?”

“I don’t like that sort of thing.”

“Like what?”

“People who’re too easy.”

Cheong-o scrunched his nose. Se-hyeon’s head was spinning now. A normal conversation with this man was impossible. He pushed at the door again.

“There’s a café nearby. I’ll buy you something to take up.”

“No! Open this!”

“Then no. I won’t open it.”

Trying to beat an esper — how stupid of him. This had been a fight with the odds entirely on one side from the start. After struggling with the door for a long time, Se-hyeon let his ragged arms drop and leaned back. Cheong-o watched with delight as Se-hyeon panted, his face saying he’d given up on everything.

“You’ll take it up, right?”

“…”

Se-hyeon whipped his head away, breathing hard, then gritted his teeth at the door that opened next.

There was only one café in the area. It had a good variety of desserts, they were tasty, and Center people came often. Cheong-o soothed and cajoled Se-hyeon, who was staging a sit-in against entering the café, and finally opened the car door for him.

“Welcome.”

Once inside — with difficulty — Se-hyeon couldn’t lift his face and just trailed after Cheong-o. He kept his mouth shut even when asked what drink he liked, so Cheong-o picked something kids would like, plus dessert, and paid.

“Enjoy.”

“Thank you.”

He’d done nothing wrong, but Se-hyeon hid the whole time; the moment they left the café, he breathed in deep. Holding the bag of desserts, Cheong-o looked at the slightly stretched shirt and said,

“I thought you hated me, but seeing you today, I guess not.”

“What?”

Cheong-o pointed with his free hand at the stretched shirt. Confronted with undeniable evidence, Se-hyeon stammered.

“I-it’s… I mean…”

“I’m not saying anything. Enjoy it.”

“…Thank you.”

“Good boy. Hurry inside.”

Good boy. That one word made his heart leap again. Not a flutter — a pounding. Clutching the bag, Se-hyeon bowed just his head and fled into the residence.

He dashed off, his whole body stiff, and Cheong-o stood watching until the back was completely out of sight, shaking his head at the laughter that kept bursting out. It felt like news would come any moment that the young guide’s heart had broken down. It had been a fun day, pretending all day not to notice the clamorous pounding.

Arriving exactly on time for work, Se-hyeon first checked whether any guiding requests had come in while he’d been away. Today, his name was on the queue. Outwardly he looked perfectly calm, but inside he was noisy.

I get to see him today. With a satisfied face, Se-hyeon headed for the guiding room, did his usual disinfection and quick clean, and sat down. He always came for guiding in the afternoon; today would be the same, probably.

He was already looking forward to the afternoon’s guiding.

He had no idea what words would get under his skin this time, but it was a chance to get a little closer to Cheong-o — it didn’t matter. Well, it didn’t entirely not matter; as long as he didn’t expect too much of him and gave up appropriately, there’d be no problem.

Cheong-o was the only esper who sought him out all day, so Se-hyeon opened the book he’d brought from home. Strictly speaking, he’d always enjoyed reading, even before Cheong-o. He’d started from sheer boredom, but now it was one of his few hobbies.

When a scene came of a teenager in puberty being bratty with his parents, the pages turned noticeably slower. Fingering the corner, Se-hyeon chewed over the passage for a long time, then closed the book.

Se-hyeon had been born premature into an ordinary family. Unlike his healthy peers, he was often sick; the hospital was more familiar to him than home, and he grew slowly, so he spent a lot of time alone, unable to fit in with the other children.

A fall meant a bruise; a bump meant a broken bone. As a small child he digested poorly and got sick to his stomach at the slightest thing.

When he’d wake in the night to sniffling, there was Se-hyeon, crying with blood pouring from his nose. His parents worked day and night to pay his hospital bills.

His parents swallowed their tears, thinking it was all their fault their child wasn’t healthy. When he wasn’t around they’d cry in secret, and when he appeared they’d smile as if they’d never cried. That was how they raised Se-hyeon, cherishing him.

Even at the moment Se-hyeon was kidnapped, his parents were at work. A clean-cut man approached Se-hyeon, who sat in front of the house waiting for his parents, not knowing when they’d return. The man asked him for directions, and the boy, wanting to help the grown-up, kindly pointed the way with gestures.

‘Just up ahead?’

‘I’m a bit confused — could you come with me just up ahead?’ A grown-up who needed his help! The boy jumped up and led the man.

At the end of the alley, the boy suddenly remembered his mother’s words — never follow a stranger anywhere — and stopped.

Looking back, he realized he was already too far from home. But by then it was too late.

The man scooped the boy up and loaded him into a car that arrived right on time. He was seven when he learned that when a person is too terrified, the mind lets go.

When the boy opened his eyes again, he was in a pitch-dark room. He pounded on the locked door, but no one opened it. He cried and pounded until his hands were cut, but outside was silent.

He’d been crying since he came to, so his head spun. Trembling with fear, not knowing what would come next —

When the boy was huddled trembling in the corner farthest from the door, he heard movement outside and the door opened. The person who emerged from the equally dark hallway looked no older than his late teens.

‘You should eat in advance, even if you’re not hungry yet.’

The boy was used to this situation; he set a bowl of food before the child and stroked his head. That was all. The next day, and the day after, a week later, a month later. The boy only ever brought his meals.

He learned later that the boy had been kidnapped young like the children, but had manifested as neither esper nor guide nor anything, and was in charge of the children brought into the facility.

The boy, slower than others at everything, was late to manifest and nearly got thrown out of the facility, but with that boy’s help he could stay on doing odd jobs. Then, for better or worse, he manifested as a guide — and was rescued less than a year after manifesting.

Se-hyeon only watched as the children he’d lived with at the facility returned to their families’ arms. After joining the Center, he often saw children applying for overnight leave to meet their families. Alone in the empty residence, tears would come, missing his parents.

But Se-hyeon held it in. When he missed his parents, wanted to hear their voices, wanted to be held — he just held it in. He thought of his parents’ voices telling him it would all be fine when he was sick.

On days full of mistakes, he thought of the voice telling him that people make mistakes because they’re human. On the rare day he earned praise, he thought of the voice saying their son was the best, as always.

Every birthday, he’d buy a small bread, unable to even light a candle, and congratulate himself. He’d sing happy birthday in his head, close his eyes, and make a wish.

When he lowered his clasped hands and opened his eyes, there was still only the dark room and the shabby bread. No parents to hug him in congratulation and whisper that they loved him. Each time, Se-hyeon couldn’t overcome the surging longing, and it hurt.

He wished his birthday — a day meant for congratulations and love — would never come again. It was miserable enough to spend it alone, and he hated his body for unfailingly crying out in pain.

Being a minor had no advantages anywhere. He always needed a guardian, and couldn’t freely withdraw money that came in his name. So the moment he was old enough to manage money himself, he began sponsoring with the money he’d diligently saved, coin by coin.

The place Se-hyeon sponsored was a certain bakery. The owners refused several times, burdened by taking money from an anonymous guide who wouldn’t even give his name, but the tireless donations wore them down, and they finally sent a letter to the Center as if conceding defeat.

The only person who knew the sponsor’s identity was the Guiding Center Director. The Director had helped Se-hyeon a great deal before he became an adult. So when a letter arrived at the Guiding Center, the Director passed it to Se-hyeon.

Whenever the bakery owners’ handwritten letter arrived, Se-hyeon found a quiet place with a trembling heart. The familiar handwriting. The familiar name. Before he could finish reading his parents’ letter, Se-hyeon wept, stifling his sobs.

Even Se-hyeon, who held everything in, had his limits. When his heart boiled over and he couldn’t bear it, he’d go near the place himself.

Only twice — but standing far off, gazing for a long time at the shop he could barely see, the urge to call out to his parents right then would strike him.

When that wretched urge struck, Se-hyeon tried hard to recall the past.

After Se-hyeon was kidnapped, the men had said this to him, whose memories were hazy from the shock of it all:

“You should’ve seen your parents, tripping over their slow-ass legs chasing after you. They ran into the road after you — what do you think happened after that?”

“Like idiot parents, like idiot kid. Your parents being idiots — that’s all your fault.”

“If you didn’t exist, they’d be living normal lives like everyone else. How’d something like you get born, huh?”

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