Chapter 47: When the Light Breaks and He Holds Me

The moment their lips touched, every sensation Chaewon was experiencing, including the pain, spread out all at once. Su-ha’s arms tightened around Chaewon’s body.

Guiding didn’t mean that a guide literally felt the same sensations as an esper. Rather, it allowed the guide to perceive what their esper was enduring at that moment.

The better their compatibility, and the closer their relationship, the more vividly and delicately a guide could grasp the esper’s condition.

And that very point could, at times, become a bullet that shattered a guide’s mind. Being able to feel, far too realistically, the suffering of someone you loved, while having no choice but to observe it, slowly eroded a person’s heart.

Of course, in ordinary circumstances, this wasn’t such a serious issue. Generally, a guide wasn’t a powerless observer. They were an active savior, someone who could step in, rescue the esper, and free them from pain.

But just as espers didn’t always fight battles within the limits they could safely handle, guides didn’t always conduct guiding at a level they could fully resolve. There were moments when a guide had to cling to an esper whose condition couldn’t be saved within a short span of time.

Pouring out all their strength, again and again, desperately struggling just to reduce the pain even a little, yet still failing to save them.

Being forced to endure that helplessness and despair from the very center of the esper’s suffering was no easy task, no matter how strong a guide’s will might be.

Yet Su-ha had never once experienced that kind of helplessness said to break guides.

He had never had an esper close enough for that to happen, and more than anything, Su-ha’s guiding ability far surpassed that of others. Because of that, he had rarely ever attempted to guide an esper so damaged that it exceeded what he could handle.

But the instant he met Chaewon’s blood-soaked lips, Chaewon’s condition surged through his entire body via the thin membranes.

Su-ha felt a kind of fear he had never known before.

It wasn’t fear that he might fail to guide Chaewon properly. What Su-ha felt was something more fundamental, heavier than that.

The realization that this was what Lee Chaewon endured struck Su-ha’s mind like a blow, painfully fresh. Regardless of Su-ha’s guiding skill, as long as Chaewon lived as an esper, he would never be free from this kind of pain.

All this had come from nothing more than a brief exchange with a B-rank esper. What if the opponent had been A-rank? S-rank? What if the battle had dragged on longer, grown even fiercer?

The imagined pain Chaewon would have had to endure surged like a massive wave, crashing over Su-ha’s senses now synchronized with Chaewon’s.

Chaewon hadn’t suffered any particularly severe physical injuries during the fight, but that fact only made Su-ha more afraid. It meant that regardless of how difficult the battle was, Chaewon would always be forced to endure excessive pain.

Why did it matter now?

This esper’s circumstances had been nothing more than a step on the way to Min I-hyeon.

What did any of that have to do with him?

Then why did it hurt Su-ha so much, to the point he felt suffocated?

Su-ha’s hand cupped Chaewon’s cheek desperately. Tilting his head back so his lips parted, Su-ha pressed his tongue inside, enclosing the soft flesh within, and drew up his energy with all his strength.

Chaewon had already completely lost consciousness and couldn’t fully receive Su-ha’s guiding. But Su-ha didn’t care. He poured in even more power, forcing his way through the tightly blocked channels of Chaewon’s body.

It was inefficient. But it didn’t matter.

He just wanted to pull Chaewon out of this swamp of pain as quickly as possible.

Even if Chaewon couldn’t properly feel the pain anymore due to being unconscious, Su-ha didn’t want to leave him alone.

“Is Esper Lee Chaewon all right?”

After some time had passed, a management team esper who had stayed nearby asked Su-ha, who had just finished guiding and pulled away. Without taking his eyes off Chaewon’s pale face, Su-ha answered.

“I’ve dealt with the immediate danger. We need to return to the center right away.”

“The car is ready. Let’s go.”

Su-ha gave a brief nod and stood, lifting Chaewon’s body in his arms. An esper who had been about to signal for a stretcher glanced at Su-ha’s expression and quietly lowered his hand.

Su-ha didn’t ask a single question about what had happened to the subdued esper, or how the situation had been resolved. It wasn’t just trust in the center, more accurately, he simply had no room to care about any of that right now.

The only thing that mattered to Su-ha was his esper.

‘My esper.’

The unfamiliar phrase made Su-ha hesitate for a brief moment, but there was no time to dwell on that strangeness.

As he carried Chaewon toward the esper ambulance, Su-ha suddenly felt unfamiliar gazes. He slowly lifted his head, having been focused solely on Chaewon’s complexion.

“Ah…”

A small sound slipped out unconsciously. People who hadn’t managed to escape, who had stopped running midway, or who had hidden inside buildings were now watching Su-ha as he walked. What they were staring at was Chaewon in Su-ha’s arms.

Only then did Su-ha realize that everyone here had seen Lee Chaewon. They had seen what kind of power he possessed, how he used it, and what he endured afterward. Some of them were still holding up their phones, filming the two of them.

He could almost hear it, the sound of a tiny world expanding. The small world Chaewon had lived in for so long, overlooked because it seemed so insignificant, was finally beginning to bud.

Su-ha pulled Chaewon a little closer, shielding his unconscious face from being openly photographed, while straightening his back and shoulders.

If this moment couldn’t be hidden, he wanted it to look as dignified, and as sacred as possible. He wanted everyone to know what Chaewon had endured to stand here.

He knew, rationally, that none of this had been forced upon Chaewon by the people here, and that they bore no responsibility. Still, Su-ha didn’t want this moment to pass as something obvious or insignificant.

It was an emotional reaction, but it was his honest feeling.

This wouldn’t end here. Thinking of the inevitable aftermath, Su-ha climbed into the vehicle. Once they returned to the center, there would likely be investigations and interviews.

****

“Please help!”

Chaewon cried out, raising his voice through tears on behalf of a nameless woman who was slowly losing consciousness. But in the chaos, with monsters rampaging everywhere, no one was able to listen.

“It’s okay. Help will come soon. Please don’t lose consciousness, okay?”

Chaewon desperately pressed his clothes against the blood flowing from the woman’s forehead. But he couldn’t force her heavy eyelids to stay open.

He stood again and tried to lift the massive concrete wall pinning her legs down, but it was impossible with his strength.

“I’m sorry…”

In the end, Chaewon collapsed back down in front of her, tears streaming down his face. The woman was dying, and Chaewon felt that cold sensation with painful clarity.

He didn’t know her. They had met for the first time here. Her being crushed under rubble by a monster, her dying, it had nothing to do with Chaewon. He had simply stumbled upon her while running away like everyone else.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

He whispered it over and over. If only he had been stronger. If only he’d had more power. Then maybe he could have saved her. He could have done something better than sitting here saying useless words.

That day, even in a situation where he himself might have died, Chaewon stayed by her side and held her hand so she wouldn’t die alone. Not knowing how much that might have meant to her in her final moments, Chaewon lived on for a long time carrying nothing but guilt.

****

Feeling the heaviness of his body, Chaewon slowly opened his eyes. Before his blurred vision cleared, what he felt most distinctly was the warm energy gently stroking his insides.

“Su-ha…”

Even without seeing him, Chaewon knew he was there. Then, directly above his head, Su-ha’s voice spoke.

“You’re awake?”

“…Su-ha?”

The voice was far too close. Chaewon had assumed, as before, that Su-ha would be sitting by the bed holding his hand, but the moment he heard that voice, he realized his body was cradled in someone’s arms.