No matter how sound a person is, hearing the same abuse every day for years gives even hazy memories a complete shape.
In the end, his unsound mind concluded: if only I were gone, it would be better for my parents too.
He kept all the letters from his parents treasured at home, but the one he found himself rereading most often he kept in the guiding room. Se-hyeon tidied the book away and took the letter from the drawer, unfolding it.
[Hello, Guide. I can truly feel winter coming now. It was so hot when our paths first crossed. On cold days like this, I suddenly think of my son a lot. He was a boy who felt the cold keenly, and he loved snow. His face would turn red and raw, and still he’d say he loved it, playing with the snow.
How I wish I could ask whether he still loves snow. At first I waited for your reply, but now I’ve decided that no news is good news. I wonder about so many things — like whether you, too, love winter the way our boy did. I hope to meet you one day and thank you in person. I’m sorry my letters are always such a mess; I have no talent for writing. Please stay healthy.]
It was a letter he’d read until it wore thin — he could recite it now without looking.
I miss you too. The unanswerable reply slipped from his lips. Se-hyeon carefully smoothed the paper, folded it neatly again, and put it back in the drawer.
Once he sank into the past, it took a long time to climb out. This time too, Se-hyeon floundered, caught in the past until the afternoon was nearly gone, then finished his regularly scheduled checkup and returned to the Center.
He’d said he’d come in the afternoon, so Se-hyeon had expected him after lunch — but quitting time came and he still hadn’t shown.
Was he busy? He opened the door, sulking — and an unfamiliar but not unwelcome presence rushed at him. In the chair where Se-hyeon sat every day, the man he’d waited and waited for all day was sitting, reading Se-hyeon’s book before closing it and waving.
“I was worried you’d be waiting anxiously, so I rushed over — but you weren’t here, so I had a look around.”
“I did sterilize first. If it bothers you that I touched things without asking, I apologize.”
“…Why are you so late?”
I’ve been waiting. Since this morning, all this time. Waiting and waiting and waiting.
Se-hyeon sat on the bed and stared at Cheong-o; Cheong-o squeezed out sanitizer gel for him.
“Did you get in trouble?”
“Or did something happen?”
“…Why?”
“You seem off today. Did something bad happen? If someone scolded you, tell me. I’ll scold them harder.”
He was like a ghost. That’s what Se-hyeon thought. A mix of flutter and wonder at Cheong-o, who ghostishly noticed states in him that others never caught.
“I thought you’d gone home. So I thought you weren’t coming today.”
“Sounds like you’re saying you were disappointed I didn’t come.”
“…I don’t know.”
Se-hyeon held his index finger and looked down at the floor. Today his mood was definitely off. Esper and guide were both in the guiding room, but no guiding passed between them.
Cheong-o dragged the chair closer, narrowing the distance. Their legs were at a distance that seemed about to touch, precariously.
“You don’t look like you want to talk.”
“…”
“What would it take to cheer our guide up?”
Even the way he bowed his head to meet Se-hyeon’s eyes looked practiced, which irked him. How many people had he soothed like this? It stung, somehow. Se-hyeon whipped his head away, avoiding his gaze.
“Mm.”
Cheong-o’s eyes followed the childlike profile. The ink on this kid’s ID probably hasn’t even dried yet. Cheong-o suppressed the urge to grab the young guide’s cheek and give it a squish.
“It’s quitting time, as far as I know. Let’s leave together.”
At the clatter of wheels on the floor, Se-hyeon — who had been stubbornly turned away — looked up at Cheong-o with startled eyes.
“But we haven’t guided yet…?”
“You work tomorrow, right?”
“…Yes.”
“No plans to go anywhere?”
Every time Se-hyeon nodded, his jet-black hair fluttered with him.
“You’ll be here tomorrow, and I’ll be coming tomorrow, so no problem, right?”
Turning the words over inwardly, Se-hyeon rose from the bed. He was right. Tidying his spot, shouldering his bag, Se-hyeon straightened up — and Cheong-o, nearly as tall as the doorframe, kindly held the door open for him. Their heights were nearly the same, but Cheong-o looked bigger, maybe the build.
Se-hyeon liked walking beside him, but he thought chasing his back wasn’t bad either. Cheong-o’s back was sturdy, and he felt a certain conviction that it would protect him no matter what happened.
So he deliberately slowed, meaning to trail behind him — but Cheong-o, oblivious, matched Se-hyeon’s pace down the hall. Swallowing a sigh inwardly, Se-hyeon smoothed his shirt, its ironing from last night now pointlessly wrinkled.
Oblivious to the young guide’s disappointment and full of useless consideration, Cheong-o asked,
“Do you sit on the bed like that when other people come too?”
“No.”
Se-hyeon scrunched one eye as if to ask why he was asking something so obvious.
“You looked used to it.”
“Used to what?”
“Getting up on the bed.”
“…I sleep in a bed at home.” You have a bed at home too… why would he ask that?
The innocent face, with no idea what he’d just said, turned to Cheong-o. If you’re going to tease someone, it should at least be someone who’d get the joke.
Cheong-o burst out laughing at the thought of what he was doing, dragging along a kid who couldn’t even imagine what he’d meant.
It wasn’t the mood for it, but Se-hyeon watched Cheong-o laughing alone, puzzled, then bowed his head to the Director, who was greeting them. As the two left the Center, the staff who’d been watching each other spoke up.
“It’s a combination I’d never have imagined — amazing every time.”
“Right? This is the first time I’ve seen Se-hyeon get friendly with someone.”
“Aren’t those two going to form an exclusive contract at this rate? I heard they went into a gate together.”
“This is the first time I’ve seen Se-hyeon go into a gate.”
“Tae, did you finish what I asked?”
“Sent it by email a little while ago.”
The Director, who’d been listening to the staff’s chatter, cut it off before it could go longer. Se-hyeon was like a sore finger to the Director. Young, and unusually frail compared to others, and unaccustomed to guiding…
Now that an esper who actually matched such a guide had finally appeared, there were more things for him, as Director, to look after than he could count. The Director gazed with a worried face at the door the two had left through long ago, then shook his head.
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