Chapter 23: A Voice in the Dark

The school felt empty now that vacation had begun.

Yoo Hee-ro sat in a multipurpose room tucked away in a corner of the first floor. Across from him sat a fire investigation officer dispatched from outside.

“Don’t be too nervous. You’re only here as a reference witness.”

Hee-ro nodded stiffly, trembling with fear. The investigator, who had no idea what Hee-ro was really thinking, simply wondered, Why on earth would anyone suspect a kid like this? and looked at him with pity.

He asked a few formal questions—mostly to reconfirm the alibi already obtained from Sung Ji-woo.

Normally, he would have had to conduct a face-to-face interrogation with Ji-woo as well, but Ji-woo was off-campus for an internship. Besides, he didn’t feel like grilling a minor suspect based on nothing but circumstantial doubt. Ji-woo’s homeroom teacher had confirmed his statement anyway—good enough.

All the investigator wanted was to finish this tiresome job and return to his desk.

“So you’re saying you did enter the Research Building, but only because of that Gate incident, correct? And the school administration was the one who suggested keeping it confidential?”

The more he listened, the more Hee-ro sounded like a harmless kid.

“Yes…”

“Then what’s the problem?”

The investigator muttered to himself. Hee-ro stole a quick glance at him and lowered his head again.

“We also have CCTV footage of you evacuating from the main building at the time. Your statement matches with the others… I don’t see anything suspicious.”

He finished scribbling something half-heartedly, then left after telling Hee-ro he’d done well.

Hee-ro sat quietly, staring out the window. His eyes were fixed somewhere far away, as if recalling something.

Bang!

“Hey!”

The door burst open. It was the same researcher who had previously tried to frame Hee-ro for the fire. Hee-ro’s expression instantly turned cold. Seeing the change, the researcher ground his teeth.

“You little punk, think you can lie to adults? Think we’re stupid?”

“Depends on what you define as an adult…”

Hee-ro let out a short, mocking laugh. Enraged, the researcher stomped toward him.

“See? I knew it. You little shit. You set that fire, didn’t you? Say it. No one else here would’ve done it!”

“Do you have proof?”

“You—ha. Are you kidding me? My data got wiped out, and you expect me to believe it wasn’t you?”

Watching him seethe with rage, Hee-ro reclined lazily in his chair.

Should I kill him?

No. That wouldn’t be satisfying enough. Calmly, Hee-ro pictured Sung Ji-woo’s face. He still needed to be the “good junior” in Ji-woo’s eyes.

“It was an abandoned project anyway. All the researchers left. The funding was cut too.”

He spoke casually—almost like admitting guilt, yet vague enough to avoid being pinned down.

“If you’d just used your ability properly, the funding wouldn’t have been cut! You understand?”

Being called an S-class deadweight—what humiliation. The researcher glared at Hee-ro with bloodshot eyes. There was nothing left in him but resentment.

“How is that my fault? Anyway, I helped you this time.”

Acting like he’d done him a favor, Hee-ro only made the researcher shake with fury. His chest rose and fell sharply. His eyes twitched. As if suddenly realizing something, his lips curled.

“…So you’ve been playing us. I get it now. You’ve been toying with us all along.”

Hee-ro stared silently at the desk, uninterested in whatever he said. A small patch of sunlight glowed on the wood. He placed his hand over it.

Warm.

“I used to hate light. But you know what I hate more? Darkness.”

“What?”

The researcher frowned at the nonsense, but Hee-ro continued unabated.

“I’m done playing along with what you people do.”

“……”

“I wanted to stay quiet until graduation… but that was then. Things have changed now.”

“……”

“My senior taught me so much. Wouldn’t it be a waste if he didn’t see any results? I just wanted to make him proud.”

Hee-ro wore the perfect mask of an innocent victim.

“But if I use my ability, you people benefit too, right? Why should I let that happen?”

The researcher threw his head back and laughed hysterically.

“Fine. So you’re confessing. You’re still a kid—too stupid to realize anything.”

He raised a small recorder in his hand. He’d captured Hee-ro’s admission—or so he thought. Everything he’d said to provoke Hee-ro had been planned. But Hee-ro didn’t even flinch.

“Oh yeah? I’m curious. Play it.”

“What?”

“I want to know if my voice recorded nicely.”

The researcher stared as if Hee-ro had lost his mind. But Hee-ro only motioned with his chin for him to play it already.

“You’re insane.”

Click. He pressed play.

“……”

Click. Click.

His movements grew frantic. He had checked the device carefully before bringing it. But it played nothing.

“What… why isn’t this working?”

As he panicked, Hee-ro spoke lazily.

“If you were going to bring something like that, you should’ve restrained me first.”

“Son of a—!”

He’d been played again. Furious, he smashed the recorder on the floor. It shattered, fragments rolling to Hee-ro’s feet. Hee-ro nudged a shard with his shoe. The researcher grabbed him by the collar with murderous eyes.

“Yeah. I should’ve scrapped you when I had the chance. The only reason you’re still alive is because of that top student brat.”

Hee-ro blinked calmly.

“Say what you want. You’re the only one who insisted on keeping me.”

“……”

Hee-ro pushed his hand away.

“I get that you love me, but I don’t feel the same. Now that you know it was one-sided, maybe stop? Have some pride.”

He looked down at him like he was less than an insect.

He dusted off his clothes, stood up, and just before walking out, spoke without emotion:

“You got lucky this time. Congrats.”

The researcher, of course, misunderstood—he thought Hee-ro meant surviving the recent fire. As predicted, he raged even more.

Outside, Hee-ro looked toward a distant place and murmured—soft enough that no one could hear.

“…I miss you.”

The sun was setting, evening creeping in.

Bzzzt, bzzzt.

His new phone rang loudly. Hee-ro’s face lit up instantly. Only one person in the world knew his number—and only one person would ever call him. He memorized the unfamiliar 11-digit number flashing on the screen.

“Senior!”

He forgot to say hello and called out Sung Ji-woo’s name first.

[-Huh? Oh—how did you know it was me? You don’t know my number.]

Ji-woo sounded flustered. Hearing him through a machine was irritating, but Hee-ro endured it. You needed patience to obtain the best things.

“I just knew. I had a feeling it was you.”

Hee-ro answered with a shy smile.

[-Then it feels like you’ve been waiting just for me. Makes me feel bad.]

How could someone be so kind? He would deny being gentle or warm, but Hee-ro knew better.

“Have you been doing well?”

Ji-woo’s wellbeing was always Hee-ro’s first concern—especially when he couldn’t see him. Not that he doubted Ji-woo’s ability to manage alone.

[-I’m fine. What about you? Are you practicing well without me?]

“Yes… No. Actually, it’s hard without you.”

He thought about lying, but after a moment, confessed honestly. He wanted to be a little spoiled with Ji-woo.

[-It’s normal for things to be hard alone. But you need to get used to it.]

Hee-ro was sick of being used to solitude. Still, he replied obediently.

“Yes… I’ll try.”

[-When I come back, I’ll praise you as much as you deserve.]

“As much as I deserve?”

[-Yeah. I can tell just by looking whether you worked hard.]

Sometimes Ji-woo treated him like a child—even though they were only a year apart. He had no idea how cute he looked doing so. Hee-ro held back a laugh.

“Then I’ll work even harder.”

[-But don’t overdo it. Don’t practice too long. Eat properly and sleep early, okay?]

“Yes.”

No one had ever worried about him like this. He looked around his pitch-dark room. Tonight, he missed Ji-woo’s light more than ever.

[-It’s late. Go to sleep.]

“…Okay. Good night, senior.”

He wanted to keep listening to his voice, but he didn’t want to bother him. Just getting a call from Ji-woo was already a huge gesture. Ji-woo didn’t give his heart easily—Hee-ro knew that. He wanted to stay by his side slowly, patiently, without frightening him away.

That night, Hee-ro slept soundly for the first time in a long while.