Chapter 66: Permission

“Come on, bringing an injured person to the hospital isn’t exactly some grand act of kindness. Honestly, wouldn’t the weird person be the one who saw this and just walked past?”

Yet those bastards never seemed to understand something so obvious.

I swallowed the words lodged at the tip of my throat and quietly stared down at the burn that still throbbed faintly.

At least it was only the back of my hand.

If it had been my face, or somewhere with softer skin, it could’ve ended much worse.

One thing was certain though—

I was definitely going to squeeze Park Suchang dry for medical expenses and emotional damages.

Not content with picking a fight with someone minding their own business, the bastard had actually smacked a cup full of hot tea out of my hand.

Probably because, as a body-enhancement Esper, he never had to worry about getting hurt himself.

‘Then again, to high-ranking Espers like Park Suchang, ordinary civilians probably look no sturdier than tofu that crumbles with the slightest pressure. Maybe carefully controlling their strength around people just feels exhausting to them. Especially for someone like Park Suchang, who couldn’t care less about my circumstances.’

In fact, powerful Espers like Park Suchang — or most members of Attack Team 3 — often compared civilians to fragile balloons or blocks of tofu.

Partly because civilians really were weak and easy to injure.

But mostly because they constantly had to stay aware of their own strength to avoid hurting someone accidentally.

Apparently once an Esper reached A-rank or higher, completely suppressing their leaking abilities without a Guide became nearly impossible.

Even I could imagine how exhausting daily life must be for them.

‘Still… Ahn Ijeong isn’t twisted like Park Suchang. He says ignoring someone injured would be stranger, yet he never once asked why I got hurt. Most people would’ve asked at least once.’

While rubbing my still-burning hand absentmindedly, I found myself wondering what exactly Ahn Ijeong was thinking.

Most people within the Center who knew about my relationship with my teammates would immediately assume any injury on me meant I’d been beaten by the Espers again.

Or that, as a refugee, I’d gotten too full of myself and deserved to be “disciplined.”

At one point, my most common nickname during my early days had literally been Attack Team 3’s punching bag.

In reality, I was simply injured often because I ran through dangerous field zones without Esper assistance.

But to people who lived off spreading rumors about me, truth never mattered much.

If I so much as shed tears like earlier in front of the Medical Center, rumors would spread instantly.

Before I even acknowledged anything, the gossip would already become accepted fact.

“…Um, aren’t you going to ask?”

“Hm? Ask what?”

“Why I got hurt. Or why I looked like I was about to cry outside the Medical Center earlier. Things like that. Most people usually ask in situations like this.”

“If I asked… would you answer?”

“…Ah. No.”

“Exactly. Which is why I’m not asking.”

Could words have temperature too?

Objectively, what he said could’ve sounded indifferent.

But perhaps because of the softness in his tone, it didn’t feel dismissive at all.

It felt considerate.

“I’m human too, you know. Of course I’m curious. Of course I want to pry and figure out what happened. But I’m not going to ask. Never. Unless you decide on your own to open up to me first.”

“But why? If you’re curious, it’s normal to ask once or twice. It’s not like you’d have bad intentions…”

“Even so, a careless question can still hurt someone. Acting thoughtlessly just because you’re curious is irresponsible.”

Most words directed at me were painful.

Sharp.

Jagged.

Unrefined.

But Ahn Ijeong’s words were different.

If I could preserve the warmth inside those sentences exactly as they were, then even the lingering cold of early spring might’ve felt survivable.

They weren’t elegant words.

Not sugar-coated comfort either.

If anything, they sounded casually tossed out without much thought.

And yet—

They were strangely warm.

Rough around the edges, but gentle nonetheless.

“I don’t want my own carelessness hurting you, Jaeyoon-ssi. So now, and in the future too, I’m never going to ask recklessly. Which means this topic ends here.”

“……”

“Let’s talk about something nicer instead. Like… maybe stories about you and me? Or the promise you stood me up on a month ago? Something like that.”

Dense sunlight poured through the glass windows so brightly that I instinctively squinted.

Ahn Ijeong stood directly within that light.

Maybe because of his clean features, the smile lingering on his lips carried the refreshing feeling of early summer.

For some reason, looking at him made me want to cry.

All I’d ever wanted was someone to exchange ordinary conversations with like this.

Then why had I spent all this time shrinking beneath condemning gazes?

“…I’ve said all this and you’re still not responding. I’m seriously getting embarrassed here…”

“……”

“…Mm. Never mind. Sorry. You’re already tired and not feeling well, and I started rambling for no reason. Just forget what I said. It was a joke.”

“……”

“I still have a report I need to finish at the Management Department anyway, so maybe you should head back and rest too. You can contact me whenever you feel like it. I think it’s better if we part here today.”

Even though it was obvious he was trying to get closer to me, I still couldn’t respond to his kindness properly.

That realization felt humiliating.

When Park Suchang hurt me, the tears that surfaced were instinctive.

But around Ahn Ijeong, my chest tightened because of the comfort and consideration he offered.

My eyes burned hot again.

I opened and closed my mouth at empty air several times, desperate to say something.

“…Would you like to eat together?”

“……”

“I really owe you today. You helped me a lot, and I wanted to properly buy you a meal to thank you. Would that… be alright?”

Even to my own ears, my voice sounded pitifully shaky.

My throat burned before I could stop it.

Honestly, I still didn’t understand why.

Maybe because it felt unfamiliar for me to be the one initiating a future meeting with someone.

Or maybe because I already knew rejection would hurt, even slightly, and resented myself for speaking anyway.

But one thing was certain.

If I let Ahn Ijeong leave like this, I would remember him for a very long time.

And if I was going to die soon anyway—

Then what did a little hurt matter?

Better this than spending the rest of my life regretting today.

“Then… shall we?”

“Ah— Kwon Iyul-ssi, wait a second…!”

Kwon Iyul bit another fresh mark into my nape.

Like a puppy teething, he’d recently developed a habit of biting my neck whenever he had the chance.

Everyone else’s clothes were growing lighter with the changing season, yet I alone wandered around in turtlenecks day and night trying to hide the marks.

The moment I flinched and shoved his shoulder away, Kwon Iyul glanced sideways at my face before lazily sticking out his tongue and licking over the wound several times.

As always, his hands continued roaming over my skin as though measuring something.

No matter how thin I was, I was still a grown man.

Yet despite sitting me on his lap and holding me there through prolonged guiding sessions lasting dozens of minutes, Kwon Iyul looked completely unbothered.

“So you’re asking permission to go out today?”

“Yes. There’s someone I made plans with before disappearing without explanation, and it’s been bothering me.”

“What kind of promise requires you to ask for time off personally?”

“…It’s with someone who helped me multiple times. Refusing would be difficult.”

“Someone from the Center? I know most faces there. Is it someone I know?”

“Uh… probably not. They transferred recently from the Northern Center.”

“An Esper?”

“…That’s what I heard.”

“Hm.”

The boredom vanished from Kwon Iyul’s eyes instantly.

His gaze sharpened.

Just from that look alone, tension flooded my body hard enough to make my waist ache.

Perhaps noticing, Kwon Iyul shifted me sideways so both my legs rested together across his lap.

The new position was physically more comfortable.

But hearing his breathing directly beside my ear made my nerves worse.

Still—

At least this way I didn’t have to face him directly.

“There’s no ulterior motive, right? Like preparing to stab me in the back and run away again.”

“…You know perfectly well that’s not the case.”

“You never know. Our Yoonie’s surprisingly talented at secretly scheming behind people’s backs. Makes it hard for me to relax.”

“I’m serious. I’m not trying anything. Besides… now that I know escape is pointless, I don’t even want to anymore.”

This time, Kwon Iyul pressed his lips against my ear and gently bit down on my earlobe.

At this rate, his constant biting would leave bruises across my entire body.

The problem was that bite marks never faded easily.

Every single day, I lived afraid someone might notice them.

Crunch—

“Ugh— what exactly do you think you’re doing right now?!”

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