Chapter 38: Morning After

“Ugh…”

The moment he opened his eyes, a pounding headache made him think he was still trapped in a nightmare.

He clutched his head and shifted his body, only for a horrifying pain to surge up from his lower half, so intense he couldn’t even scream.

When he managed to lift his head and look around, Tae-woo’s bedroom came into view.

Sunlight poured in through the uncovered window, dazzlingly bright.

Since he had no memory of making it up here, it seemed Tae-woo had carried him in after he lost consciousness last night.

Sensing movement beside him, So-won turned his head—and met Tae-woo’s gaze, fixed squarely on him.

“How are you feeling?”

“I don’t think I can say I’m fine… exactly.”

At Tae-woo’s question, asked as if he’d been waiting for him to wake, So-won replied with an awkward smile.

When he shifted his waist slightly, his face twisted on its own—it was bad enough that he couldn’t even pretend he was okay.

And it wasn’t just his waist.

His entire body throbbed.

Letting out a quiet sigh as he assessed himself, So-won asked carefully,

“And you, Tae-woo?”

Had he gotten a bit better?

The wavelength he always felt when they were close seemed quieter than usual today.

If even their fingertips brushed, he’d know immediately what condition Tae-woo was in.

But if he did that, things might turn strange again like yesterday, so So-won waited quietly for his answer.

“My body… feels lighter.”

Hearing that, So-won burst out laughing.

Tae-woo was avoiding his eyes as he answered—clearly feeling guilty that his own condition had improved while So-won was in such a state.

After what had happened yesterday, it would actually have been stranger if he hadn’t improved.

Even though his body hurt, So-won felt a faint sense of pride, relief, and satisfaction.

He buried his face into the pillow.

At least this means I won’t have to worry about the doctor’s looks during the regular checkup—

Wait.

Regular checkup?

Just as his eyes were about to drift shut again, they flew open.

“Isn’t today Monday?”

“Yes.”

“Today’s the day for the regular checkup, isn’t it?”

“We can postpone it a few days, so you don’t need to worry.

Please rest properly today.”

Tae-woo’s words were tempting.

With his current condition, going all the way to the Association was clearly impossible.

But when he imagined the attending physician already prepared, waiting eagerly for both him and Tae-woo, a low groan escaped So-won’s lips.

“No… I can’t postpone it because of me.”

He squirmed and pushed himself upright.

The blanket that had been covering him to the shoulders slid down, revealing his upper body.

And the moment they both noticed the marks left behind on So-won’s body, Tae-woo and So-won fell silent at the same time.

Bluish bruises—clearly left by Tae-woo—were scattered all over him.

The most striking was the large handprint stamped around his waist; anyone could tell at a glance whose hand it was.

As if his body were a canvas, vivid patches of congestion filled every inch, leaving no empty space.

Even So-won, who had been trying to act nonchalant, was thoroughly flustered.

“…I’m sorry.”

“Oh—no!

It doesn’t hurt, so you don’t have to apologize!”

Tae-woo stared at the marks on So-won’s body, consumed by self-reproach.

It was no different from what a beast would do.

As his gaze swept over each trace one by one, darkened and lowered, embarrassment crept up on So-won, who hurriedly changed the subject.

“Then I’ll go get ready now!”

He sprang off the bed as if fleeing—only to have his legs give out the moment his feet touched the floor, collapsing in a heap.

So-won’s face filled with question marks.

Huh?

What’s wrong with me?

Panicking, he tried to stand again, but his knees wouldn’t support him.

It felt as though an essential screw had come loose in his body—no, as if everything below his waist had vanished, completely numb.

“Are you all right?

I really think you should just rest today—”

Tae-woo hurried over to check on him.

The deeper the frown on Tae-woo’s face as he examined So-won, the heavier the guilt weighing on him became.

Embarrassed by Tae-woo’s gaze on his body, So-won deflected with an excuse.

“I’m really fine.

But I want to wash up… Could you take me as far as the bathroom?”

“All right.”

Tae-woo helped him up and supported him.

And the instant he felt the wavelength flowing in, So-won flinched in surprise.

The moment Tae-woo’s hand touched him, the wavelength was unbelievably calm.

Looking closely now, Tae-woo’s face seemed paler in its veins, too.

He had thought Tae-woo looked healthier somehow—and it wasn’t just his imagination.

After that kind of guiding, it would’ve been a problem if he hadn’t improved.

“I can walk on my own from here.”

With Tae-woo’s support, he barely made it to the bathroom door, where he could stand as long as he leaned on the wall.

After finally sending away Tae-woo—who looked as uneasy as someone watching a toddler take their first steps—So-won went inside.

When he saw his reflection in the mirror, he let out an exclamation.

“Wow…”

Now he understood why Tae-woo had looked so serious earlier.

Handprints remained clearly on his wrists, waist, and legs, and even the areas without them were filled with bite and suck marks, leaving no room to breathe.

There was even a large bite mark on his shoulder.

There was no need to think hard about who the culprit was.

Judging by the number of marks, it should have hurt quite a bit—but he felt no pain.

As So-won traced the marks on his body, memories of last night resurfaced.

It hadn’t felt as unpleasant as he’d expected.

Rather—

So-won’s face flushed bright red.

The more he looked at the traces on his body, the more last night replayed in his mind, and he hurriedly turned on the shower.

“…If someone else saw this, they’d misunderstand, right?”

Standing before his closet, choosing what to wear, So-won fell into 고민.

Even though the worst of the heat had passed, it was still too warm for long sleeves.

But with bruises even on his wrists, wearing anything that exposed skin would make it look like he’d been abused by Tae-woo.

Given Tae-woo’s less-than-stellar reputation, bad rumors would spread in no time if others saw him like this.

After agonizing for a long while, So-won finally chose a thin shirt.

Buttoning it all the way up to the collar felt stifling, but it hid even the marks on his neck.

Okay.

This should be fine.

When he went downstairs, Tae-woo was already ready, standing quietly and looking down at something.

“Tae-woo, what’s wrong?”

So-won walked closer—and the moment he saw what lay before him, he was left speechless.

The sofa where he and Tae-woo had shared a conversation of both body and heart last night was utterly destroyed.

One leg was broken, tilting it like a slide, and the backrest had split in half and fallen backward.

Come to think of it, he had heard something break last night.

“We’ll have to order a new one…”

So-won muttered.

The words Let’s get a sturdier one next time rose to his throat, but he barely swallowed them back.

“Shall we go?”

“Yes.”

Leaving the ruined sofa behind, So-won stepped outside with Tae-woo and smiled at the bright weather.

The clear sky greeted him.

The air was fresh, the breeze cool.

When he brushed Tae-woo’s hand lightly, the wavelength he felt was the calmest it had ever been.

His body still ached, but his heart felt light enough that he hardly noticed it.

***

The attending physician stared at the results in disbelief.

He’d handed over the pamphlet, but honestly, he hadn’t expected much.

No matter how exceptional So-won was, he never imagined that after just one month, he’d be able to guide Tae-woo like that.

Especially not when Tae-woo had been dragged in only days ago with clear signs of a rampage.

And yet—what was this?

Just one week.

Only a week after returning from the gate and showing rampage symptoms, Tae-woo’s condition had improved dramatically.

These were numbers the physician hadn’t seen in years since becoming Tae-woo’s doctor.

He wasn’t completely stable yet, but this was more than enough to focus on research for the time being without worry.

“Guide Lee So-won, this is incredible!

I’ve never seen results like this in my life!”

Overcome with emotion, the doctor grabbed So-won’s hand and shook it vigorously.

If he followed his heart, he’d print hundreds—no, thousands—of copies of the report and scatter them out the window.

Or hang massive banners across the Association building—no, even that wouldn’t be enough.

“With numbers like these, we could report this to the International Association immediately—!”

Just as he seemed ready to shower endless praise on So-won, the doctor abruptly fell silent, sensing a murderous glare from the side.

Only then did he notice So-won, flustered by his excessive reaction.

Regaining his composure, the doctor swallowed and carefully let go of So-won’s hand; at the same time, the gaze was withdrawn.

He exhaled internally in relief.

“Ahem… then I’ll explain the test results first.”

So-won looked at the data on the monitor the doctor indicated while explaining Tae-woo’s condition.

The text was filled with English and technical jargon he couldn’t understand—but there was one thing he could grasp.

“So this is Tae-woo’s current condition, right?”

He pointed to the far end of a line that had wavered violently as if it might burst through the graph, only to plunge sharply downward.

“Yes.

That point at the bottom is Kang Tae-woo’s current state.”

The doctor answered kindly with a smile.

So-won stared at the graph representing Tae-woo’s wavelength levels, unable to speak.

It dropped… this much?

At a ninety-degree angle?

As if responding to his thoughts, the doctor marveled aloud.

“It’s partly because his condition was so bad to begin with, but more than anything, it must be thanks to your high matching rate.

Incredible—matching rate 100% really is different.

To have more than half of the accumulated wavelength values drop at once….”

The doctor hadn’t meant anything by it, but So-won couldn’t lift his head any higher.

If he did, he’d meet the doctor’s eyes—eyes filled with warm satisfaction—so he fixed his gaze firmly on the papers instead.