Chapter 23: The Taboo He Feared

“Su-ha… -ssi…?”

Chaewon opened his eyes with a dazed expression, like someone who had just come to after fainting, and alternated his gaze between Su-ha’s face and the hand they were holding together for the first time.

Then, before Su-ha could even begin to stammer out something that sounded like an excuse, Chaewon’s face suddenly drained of color.

Looking terrified, he pushed himself upright and violently yanked his hand out of Su-ha’s grasp.

“W-what do you think you’re doing…?!”

The guiding, which had been cut off abruptly without properly being drawn to a close, naturally dealt a blow to Chaewon’s body.

Startled, Su-ha shouted as he questioned him. But Chaewon, unable even to think about calming the stray energy rampaging inside him, looked at Su-ha with a wavering gaze and spoke.

“I-I’m sorry…!”

“…Pardon?”

“I… I grabbed your hand without realizing it, Su-ha-ssi…!”

Chaewon, who rarely got worked up no matter what he went through, couldn’t brush this off calmly this time. His small, curled-in body began to tremble.

And for good reason.

Threatening a guide into providing guiding, or subduing a guide by force for the sake of guiding, was one of the absolute taboos among espers.

Between espers and guides, the disparity in innate power was far too clear. In the early days after awakeners first appeared, it was common for espers to forcibly use guides without their consent.

It was only natural that guides developed a strong aversion toward espers. State-affiliated guides staged collective refusals to provide guiding, and newly awakened guides concealed their abilities, hesitating to step forward for espers.

Even invoking the grand cause of “national disaster” had its limits when it came to forcing sacrifices from guides.

Eventually, a severe shortage of guides followed. Espers who couldn’t receive proper guiding began to rampage, leading to irreversible disasters, only then did the state step in for the sake of guides’ rights.

Violence against guides or forcing guiding upon them was officially defined as a criminal act subject to severe legal punishment.

At first, many people pushed back, branding guides as selfish. But after long, sustained efforts, public perception fortunately shifted. Such acts now invited not only punishment, but widespread public condemnation as well.

This was among the most basic principles taught during esper education, and Chaewon, too, had been warned about this issue repeatedly during his training.

And yet, no matter how disoriented he’d been—Chaewon believed that he had clung to Suha’s hand without consent, pressing him for stronger guiding. In his mind, there was no excuse.

“I shouldn’t have done that… I’m sorry, Su-ha-ssi. I’ll accept whatever punishment is appropriate for this. I’m sorry.”

“Chaewon-ssi.”

“I’ll… I’ll go to the team leader right now and explain… explain everything.”

Chaewon’s voice shook endlessly. He felt like he might cry, but biting his lip, he held it back, it felt wrong to cry here. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Su-ha’s face.

Someone who didn’t even want him.

Someone who was sacrificing himself for Chaewon out of obligation.

And he’d gone and done something like this.

At the same time as the thought that he’d never be able to receive Su-ha’s guiding again, a fear surged up that he might be expelled from the center altogether.

But what tormented Chaewon more than any of that was the simple fact that he’d committed such an unforgivable act. Even if he were punished or expelled, it wouldn’t erase the humiliation Su-ha must have felt just moments ago.

“Listen to me for a moment, Chaewon-ssi.”

What steadied Chaewon by grasping his shoulders wasn’t the Su-ha he was certain must be looking down on him with contempt, but Su-ha himself. The instant Su-ha’s hands touched his shoulders, a gentle energy enveloped Chaewon’s wildly unstable wavelength.

Guiding.

Chaewon stared at Su-ha with his mouth parted in shock.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Chaewon-ssi. Calm down.”

“What are you…?”

“I grabbed your hand because I wanted to guide you better.”

“…”

“You didn’t force me to hold hands.”

A heavy silence hung in the room for a brief moment.

****

Su-ha pinched the bridge of his nose irritably. Chaewon’s wavelength, felt through his fingertips, was a complete mess.

It was only natural, guiding had been forcibly interrupted mid-process, and on top of that, Chaewon was emotionally shaken. Considering the severity of his side effects, the fact that he hadn’t fainted was impressive in itself.

Cold sweat had already formed on Chaewon’s pallid face. Despite his stiff expression, Su-ha gently stroked his arm, doing his best to calm his energy.

Of course, this was purely to prevent an accident caused by an overexcited esper.

That’s what Su-ha told himself.

After quietly meeting Chaewon’s eyes, eyes that looked at him with a breathless, confused expression, Su-ha finally spoke.

“With the training intensity increasing, just holding your wrist wasn’t enough to stabilize your condition.”

“…”

“So I decided to hold your hand. Of my own will.”

Only after Chaewon slowly processed Su-ha’s words did the color return to his eyes. Su-ha was just about to let out a hollow chuckle at how ridiculous it was that something so trivial as guiding had led to all this, when Chaewon beat him to it, curling in on himself as he released a long breath.

“Thank goodness…”

The tiny murmur, breathed out like a sigh of relief, brushed against Su-ha’s ear.

“I thought… I thought I’d treated you badly, Suha-ssi.”

“…”

“You already dislike me, and I thought I’d become someone you’d really have a reason to hate…”

He’d thought Chaewon was fine.

No matter how Su-ha guided him without an ounce of affection, no matter how he pushed him away with sharp words and energy, no matter how he behaved in ways that didn’t resemble a paired guide at all.

Chaewon always nodded calmly, answered obediently, and faced him with a placid expression.

So Su-ha truly believed he was fine.

But maybe he wasn’t.

Maybe he’d been carrying it all this time.

The countless moments Su-ha had brushed off as “he seems okay” came together before his eyes like fragments of a shattered puzzle. Su-ha’s fingertips, resting on Chaewon’s arm, hesitated, then pulled away. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to do.

He knew this was the moment he should say something, yet his lips wouldn’t move easily. Being cold and curt, as he’d intended, felt wrong in a situation like this. But comforting him gently felt embarrassing, given his past behavior.

“As I said, that wasn’t the case. So please don’t worry.”

In the end, that was all Su-ha could manage to say.

But that alone seemed to be enough for Chaewon. The unsteady breathing that had looked moments away from collapse gradually evened out.

The fact that Chaewon seemed to think nothing else mattered as long as he hadn’t wronged Su-ha left an uncomfortable knot in Su-ha’s chest.

“Chaewon-ssi.”

Calling his name like that was a somewhat impulsive choice. Chaewon looked at Su-ha with his usual calm gaze, showing no surprise. Meeting those abyss-like eyes, Su-ha felt as though the sensation of pushing energy through their interlaced fingers resurfaced.

Still acting on impulse, Su-ha continued.

“…You weren’t in the wrong, Chaewon-ssi.”

“Yes. I understand.”

“No. I’m not talking about just what happened now.”

Among everyone entangled in this situation, where Su-ha had unwillingly become someone’s guide, the one who bore the least responsibility was Chaewon. Like others, he’d simply awakened one day and entered the center.

And yet, Chaewon was the only one still apologizing for things no one else would apologize for. It was unfair. Su-ha knew that, and yet he’d continued to turn a blind eye, keeping his guard up and pushing Chaewon away.

Responsibility toward Chaewon and the longing for the goal he’d chased his whole life collided violently within him. Caught in that turmoil, unable to fully choose either, Su-ha spoke.

“From now on… I’ll increase the intensity of the guiding a bit. We’ll need to expand the contact area more than we do now.”

Guiding Chaewon was still clearly something he needed to be cautious about. He didn’t want to do something stupid, like getting drunk on emotion through prolonged contact and forgetting what he truly wanted.

But at the same time, letting Chaewon continue to suffer needlessly for the sake of Su-ha’s goals wasn’t right either.

I just need to keep a clear head.

As Su-ha steeled his resolve and was about to say more, Chaewon, having already returned to his familiar calm gaze, interrupted him.

“No. You don’t have to do that.”

“…What?”

“The guiding is already enough as it is. Everything I’ve been able to endure in training so far, it’s all thanks to your guiding, Su-ha-ssi. If it had been anyone else, it would’ve been impossible. I know that.”