Chapter 57: The Call He Almost Didn’t Make

“Please continue to stay by my side. I’ll be in your care.”

Swallowing the words that were never meant to be permitted to him, Chaewon slowly rose from his seat and turned back to Su-ha as he spoke.

“Thank you. Let’s go back now.”

He already had a mountain of things to worry about; spending his heart on something with a predetermined ending would be nothing but a waste of time. Walking alongside Su-ha as he, too, stood and moved forward, Chaewon gave a small nod to himself.

Giving up on wanting something before even allowing himself to want it, that, too, was something Chaewon was exceedingly good at.

****

Even deep into the night, Chaewon couldn’t fall asleep. He sat propped against the headboard with the bedside lamp still on, staring blankly ahead as the conversation he’d had with Su-ha replayed endlessly in his mind. Chaewon was thinking.

Chaewon’s life had always been defined by obligation. A continuous chain of things he had to do. He needed to survive. He needed to pay for his grandmother’s hospital bills and medication.

There had never been room to think about what he wanted; he simply lived by doing what had to be done.

That way of life carried on naturally even after Chaewon became an esper. The moment he realized he’d awakened, he’d simply assumed, like all the other espers, that he was now meant to fight monsters or criminals. It was a new duty that had been assigned to him.

And yet, today, Su-ha had told him something different. That a person’s life isn’t decided that way. That he himself needed to think about what kind of life he wanted to choose.

Would this life be hard? Of course. A life spent protecting the world and its people could never be easy. Chaewon had seen countless news reports about espers injured during missions.

Though the frequency had decreased since the world stabilized, espers still occasionally died in combat even now.

Only then did Chaewon realize that he’d never seriously thought about this path. Setting aside whether he truly wanted this life, he hadn’t even properly grasped the weight an esper was meant to bear.

He’d held onto nothing more than vague, romanticized images, like characters from a fantasy novel. When, in truth, no life could ever be that shallow or light.

With that realization came a sudden memory of the fear he’d felt standing before his first battle. A feeling he’d ignored in the urgency of the moment and never revisited.

Now, Chaewon understood that choosing this life meant continuing to face danger and fear in the future, something he should have considered long ago.

Ye-seon’s words about Chaewon possibly having to attend a press conference slipped into his thoughts, taking advantage of his already tangled mind. At the time, it hadn’t felt real. Now, the weight of it pressed down on him.

People would surely look at him with disapproval. They’d question how an S-class could be so weak, so incompetent.

Could he endure that? He’d thought he was used to being ignored and insulted, but that had only ever been from a limited number of people at work. Chaewon wasn’t sure he could remain as unaffected when faced with attacks from an unspecified multitude.

So, Chaewon. I hope you won’t think that just because things turned out this way, you absolutely have to do this.

Su-ha’s voice, heavy with concern, echoed in his head. Pulling the blanket close, Chaewon hugged it tightly and blinked slowly.

Should he just stop here? No matter how he thought about it, this position felt excessive for someone as insignificant as him. It didn’t suit him.

He could never become someone like Min I-hyeon or Joo Gi-yoon. So perhaps it would be better to stop now, before he ruined more things.

“…”

But then, the image that surfaced in Chaewon’s mind was of the people who had fled behind him. The innocent civilians in the café, trembling in fear, each with lives of their own.

Out of habit, Chaewon drew up his energy. The darkness of the night, too thick to be chased away by a single lamp, was instantly pushed back by the blue light that bloomed from him.

A wave of exhilaration surged through him. It was the feeling he’d had when he raised his barrier and stood in front of those people. Even if he hadn’t lasted to the end and ultimately passed out, it was true that he’d bought them time, however brief. It hadn’t been meaningless.

Taking a deep breath, Chaewon closed his eyes and focused on the power within him. It was unmistakably stronger than before. His heart, sunken under negative thoughts, began to pound once more.

He wanted to save more people with this power. That was an undeniable truth. Chaewon may have started this path out of a sense of duty, but the desire to protect others was undeniably his own.

He couldn’t be like Min I-hyeon. He’d never be that remarkable. But was only saving hundreds or thousands of people meaningful? Was saving ten worth less? Was saving just one person nothing at all?

Faces rose in the darkness, those who had stood behind his barrier. His breath caught. He wanted to save them. Obligation hadn’t disappeared entirely; Chaewon carried a kind of debt for possessing such power despite his inadequacy. But that wasn’t all.

With his eyes closed, Chaewon listened to his heartbeat. Before awakening as an esper, he’d never once listened to a sound like this. He’d never had anything that made his heart race.

A strange, unfamiliar feeling washed over him, something like excitement, and something like fear. He wanted to face this future he’d never known, yet at the same time wanted to run from it. What mattered was that none of these feelings made him want to quit.

Chaewon slowly opened his eyes. There was no hesitation left in his heart. He wanted to do this. He wanted to see it through. No matter how lacking he was, no matter the danger that awaited, he still wanted to help protect the world with the power he had.

Letting his energy settle, Chaewon picked up the phone beside him. When he unlocked the screen and opened his contacts, the name Jin Su-ha appeared. Still the only number saved on his phone.

His finger hovered over the call button. He’d never actually called Su-ha before, he’d only saved the number. And yet, at this moment, he wanted to call him more than anything.

He could make the excuse that he’d reached a decision and needed to inform Su-ha, but that felt flimsy. He’d see Su-ha tomorrow for guiding anyway; it wouldn’t be too late to say it then.

And still, even knowing that, it was hard to hold back. He wanted to tell someone how he felt right now, and he wanted that someone to be Su-ha.

He wanted to speak aloud the realization he’d come to for the first time in his life. The thing he’d only discovered after gaining a second life, that there was something he genuinely wanted to do.

It was all thanks to Su-ha. If Su-ha hadn’t said those things for his sake today, Chaewon would never have looked honestly at his own desires.

When he’d first entered the center and been given a phone, there’d been no one to tell him how his life had changed overnight. He’d begun his new life quietly, alone. Having grown used to solitude, it hadn’t even felt particularly lonely or unfair.

And yet now, just because a single name was written there, he was feeling this unfamiliar impulse.

Unable to fully understand himself, Chaewon still couldn’t stop himself from pressing the call button.

The ringing tone echoed in his ear. His heart felt like it might burst.

Should he hang up now? Pretend it was a mistake later? Was it too late at night to call over something like this? Would he just end up bothering Su-ha?

The doubts crowded in, one after another.