Chapter 8

After finishing his tutoring session, Hee-beom felt relieved that I-young was nowhere in sight.

He figured that, as the busiest man in the country, I-young must have left. He didn’t even bother checking.

Even if he had just stepped away temporarily, it didn’t matter. This was the perfect chance to escape.

He briskly crossed through the apartment complex.

His pace was noticeably faster—because he was afraid that I-young might suddenly appear from somewhere.

But then—

Creak… creak… creeeak…

A faint, eerie sound came from nearby.

Hee-beom turned his head toward the noise.

There was a playground.

Someone was sitting on a swing.

With four streetlights illuminating the area, it was impossible to pretend he hadn’t seen.

It was I-young.

He was sitting on the swing, eating ice cream.

There was nothing particularly special or unusual about it.

Except for one thing.

His feet weren’t touching the ground.

To move a swing, you either had to push off with your feet or shift your body weight.

But I-young wasn’t doing anything.

Yet, the swing was rocking back and forth on its own.

It was eerie. Hee-beom’s expression twisted.

“Why do you keep…”

Was he that desperate to show off that he was an Esper?

Even if it was his own ability, even if this was just his normal life—

Why did he keep showing these things?

Right in front of him. Right near him. Right beside him.

Hee-beom clenched his teeth hard.

His gaze gradually dulled.

It was because he wasn’t looking at the present—his eyes were focused on some moment in the past.

And then—

“Hee-beom!”

I-young called out brightly as soon as he spotted him. The swing moved even faster. Then, at its highest point, he suddenly leaped off.

But he didn’t fall.

His thin body drifted down lightly, as if stepping onto an invisible escalator. Only his tie fluttered in the air.

As he approached, he no longer smelled of shampoo.

Instead, a faintly sweet scent of ice cream lingered around him.

“Did you hold hands with them?”

He muttered, his lips lightly stained with pink. There was a small bite mark on the ice cream he held.

“What?”

Hee-beom frowned, unsure if he had heard correctly.

“I asked if you held hands.”

“……No. I didn’t.”

“Then did you hug?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t… kiss, did you?”

“That’s ridiculous. A tutor doing that with a student would get arrested.”

“What? Who would dare arrest you? No one can. I won’t let them. I’m really strong. So you can do whatever you want, Hee-beom.”

“Ha…”

Hee-beom let out a short laugh.

Why was this conversation going in this direction?

It was almost impressive how exhausting someone could be just by talking.

Shaking his head, he took a step back.

Just then, I-young fished out a plastic bag that had been looped around his wrist like a bracelet and spread it open to the side.

“Eat some ice cream. I didn’t know what you liked, so I bought a bunch.”

Before Hee-beom could even look inside, a line of ice creams floated up from the bag into the air.

Bars, cones, cups, tube ice pops.

White, yellow, brown, green—every color imaginable.

At a glance, there had to be at least twenty.

Hee-beom instinctively took a step back.

“I don’t like sweets.”

“Oh… really?”

“Yeah.”

“…….”

At the unexpected answer, I-young looked momentarily flustered.

After a brief silence, the ice creams that had been floating in midair like an elaborate display all plummeted back into the bag in perfect formation.

It was like watching ice cream commit mass suicide.

“Th-then I won’t like them anymore either.”

Saying something no one had asked of him, I-young walked over to the nearby trash bin and shoved the entire bag inside.

He even moved to throw away the one he had been eating, but after glancing at Hee-beom, he instead took a big bite—chomp—before tossing the rest into the bin.

“…….”

Hee-beom stared at him for a moment, then simply walked away.

“Ah—!”

I-young let out a small exclamation before quickly trotting after him, closing the distance in an instant.

“Where are we going now?”

“…….”

“You’re not answering again.”

“…….”

Though I-young seemed a little annoyed, he didn’t leave or do anything to bother Hee-beom further.

Exiting the apartment complex, Hee-beom made his way toward a nearby park.

The park was old, poorly maintained, and completely deserted. The streetlights flickered dimly.

He stopped in a secluded area enclosed by a square railing.

Behind him was a wall separating the park from a building, and overgrown trees blocked half the streetlamp’s light, casting deep shadows.

The air was damp, the smell faintly musty.

It was the kind of place where it wouldn’t be surprising if a monster suddenly jumped out.

I-young wrinkled his nose as he looked around.

“Why’d you come here?”

Hee-beom gestured toward a small sign in the corner with his chin.

The sign had a cigarette icon and read “Smoking Area.”

“What are you doing here?”

I-young asked again.

“…….”

Hee-beom didn’t answer.

He just assumed that I-young must’ve skipped language comprehension class.

Taking out a cigarette, he placed it between his lips and lit it.

A deep drag filled his lungs with nicotine, dulling the sharp edges of his nerves.

His furrowed brows smoothed back into a straight line.

“You smoke, huh, Hee-beom?”

“…….”

“Smoking’s bad for you.”

“…….”

“Just smoke a little, okay? Only ten a day.”

“…….”

Hee-beom let out a small, incredulous laugh. A wisp of smoke curled out with it.

Ten a day wasn’t exactly “a little.”

I-young really was an odd one.

As Hee-beom smoked, I-young watched him with fascination before beginning to wander around, aimlessly circling the area like an excited puppy on a walk.

The night was deep.

There were no roads nearby, no passersby. The rundown park was eerily silent.

So much so that the sound of I-young’s polished shoes against the pavement rang out overly clearly.

Hee-beom shot an irritated glare at those clean shoes—just as I-young suddenly spun in place.

For a split second, his shoes lifted off the ground before lightly touching back down.

“This place is really dark and quiet. No people around either.”

“…….”

“It’s the perfect spot for hugging and kissing, don’t you think?”

“…….”

“Or, I mean, even just holding hands would be nice…”

With his hands clasped behind his back, I-young shyly swayed his shoulders.

He scuffed his heel against the ground, making the small stones crunch softly beneath his weight.

“…….”

Hee-beom, as always, did not respond.

At that, I-young seemed to make up his mind.

Taking a deep breath, he suddenly shouted with surprising force.

“Hee-beom! Should we, as friends, hold hands just once?”

He sounded like a middle-aged man drunk out of his mind. Where did he even learn to talk like that?

Sometimes he acted like a preschooler, sometimes like an immature teenager, and when it came to physical contact, he turned into a sleazy old man.

I-young was, without a doubt… exhausting.

“No.”

“Ah, whyyy…”

At Hee-beom’s rejection, I-young’s shoulders slumped, and his lower lip jutted out in a pout.

Even after that, he continued throwing out ridiculous statements, begging, and pestering.

Then, as if finally giving up, he leaped onto the nearby railing.

It was a narrow barrier meant to separate the smoking area, no wider than the palm of Hee-beom’s hand—far too narrow for anyone to comfortably stand on.

Yet, I-young perched there effortlessly, crouching down with his chin resting on his knees.

He looked just like a cat.

A moment ago, he had seemed like a puppy. Sometimes, he resembled a floating balloon.

He was, in any case, something other than human.

Turning away, Hee-beom exhaled a cloud of smoke.

He deliberately smoked roughly, like a heavy smoker, hoping to make himself seem more repulsive.

He even considered spitting phlegm, but the thought alone disgusted him, so he refrained.

Then—

“Hee-beom, you look handsome even at night.”

I-young spewed another ridiculous comment.

He hadn’t said it expecting a response, as he immediately let out a giggle.

Hidden in the shadows, Hee-beom watched that smile with a twisted gaze.

Then, I-young cheerfully added,

“It’s strange. Just being with you makes me feel good. You must really be my Guide.”

“…….”

“I want to stay with you.”

“…….”

“I wish we could be together every day.”

Then, as if embarrassed, he lowered his head and started twirling the end of his tie.

At least he seemed somewhat aware that he was spouting nonsense.

Watching him, Hee-beom exhaled another long breath of smoke before asking,

“Why do you keep…”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you keep talking informally to me?”

“Well, because I’m older than you.”

“……Older?”

“Yeah. I’m two years older than you.”

I-young held up his index and middle fingers to indicate the number two.

“…….”

Hee-beom’s brows furrowed.

He had vaguely known that I-young was an adult, but he had assumed he was maybe twenty at most.

He looked no different from the freshmen at school.

Who would have thought he was actually twenty-six?

So, he was the younger one?

He had already found it annoying that I-young was speaking informally despite being younger.

Now, knowing he was actually older—

That was just as annoying. In the end, everything about I-young seemed to irritate him.

“Why? You don’t like it when I speak informally? But I like it. It makes us seem close. You should talk casually too, Hee-beom.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Then just do it whenever you feel like it. I like everything about you.”

With that, I-young suddenly stood up on the railing. Then, he began walking along its narrow surface. His steps were precarious.

He wasn’t using his telekinesis, relying only on his own balance.

Occasionally, he wobbled as if he were about to fall, but he neither screamed nor looked afraid.

As if he knew he wouldn’t fall.

Hee-beom watched in silence, unable to decipher his own thoughts.

Then, I-young spoke again.

“Hee-beom, where are we going after you finish that cigarette? Going home? Your place?”

“…….”

“I want to go too. I want to see your home. Your desk, your bed—I’m curious about everything.”

“I don’t want that.”

Hee-beom refused again, but this time, his rejection was sharper than before.

Yet, I-young didn’t seem to notice.

“Why?”

“…….”

Hee-beom chewed on the smoke filling his mouth, then tilted his head slightly and looked up at I-young, who was still perched on the railing.

“I guess you haven’t asked Chief Jang where I live yet.”

“Yeah. Not yet.”

“…….”

“But do I have to ask Chief Jang? Can’t you just tell me?”

I-young spun around as he spoke, his hair softly fluttering.

The light from the streetlamp shimmered between his silky strands.

It was a shine that didn’t exist on Hee-beom, who stood there like a dark stain pressed into the ground.

His lips curled in irritation.

I-young didn’t seem to realize how rude it was to pry into someone else’s home, to want to go there so freely.

What if where he lived wasn’t even a “home”?

What if there was no space in that so-called “home” to let someone in?

Hee-beom found I-young’s naive rudeness utterly repulsive.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Go home now.”

“Go home?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what about you?”

“I’ll go tutor.”

“But you just finished tutoring.”

“My next tutoring session.”

“You have another one? Then I have to wait again? Ugh… waiting is so boring…”

“I never told you to wait.”

Hee-beom replied, clearly annoyed, bracing himself for whatever nonsense I-young would say next.

“Alright. I’ll go.”

For once, I-young agreed without resistance.

He lightly hopped off the railing with a soft tap.

Then, trotting over to Hee-beom, he suddenly spread his arms wide.

“But in exchange, hug me for just one minute.”

“…What?”

“Just one minute. Then I’ll leave.”

“…….”

Hee-beom stared down at him in disbelief.

I-young, who was nearly two palm-widths shorter than him, was unbearably irritating.

Not just irritating—he made Hee-beom want to do something about it.

His palms tingled.

He had never once considered himself a violent person, but lately, he wasn’t so sure.

Was it because his Guide abilities had awakened?

Was he now just another power-hungry Esper, thirsty for blood?

While Hee-beom pressed his lips together in silence, I-young tilted his head.

“Or 50 seconds?”

“…….”

“How about 45 seconds?”

“…….”

“Alright, alright. 40 seconds. That’s my limit. I can’t go any lower.”

I-young furrowed his brows, pulling the corners of his lips down into an exaggeratedly firm expression.

“…….”

Hee-beom remained silent.

A thin wisp of smoke curled up from the cigarette in his hand.

Noticing something colder in his usual cynicism, I-young hesitated and subtly tucked his chin inward.

Then, pointing at the cigarette in Hee-beom’s hand, he asked,

“Then what about just our hands? Can’t we hold hands? Just our hands. That’s all.”

I-young looked up at him expectantly, as if saying, You’ll at least allow this, right?

At that, Hee-beom pressed his tongue hard against the inside of his cheek.

I-young—acting as if his request was the most natural thing in the world.

Believing that if he whined, he’d eventually get what he wanted.

No, not just believing it—knowing it, because his entire life had been that easy.

It was revolting.

Hee-beom took a deep drag of his nearly finished cigarette and muttered under his breath.

“What’s so special about this damn Guiding…?”

“Hm?”

I-young tilted his head, as if he hadn’t understood.

His face was still pristine—clear, white, and unblemished.

Hee-beom took another drag, looking down at him.

“A hug? Holding hands? You think that’s enough?”

“Of course. It’s so—”

I-young never finished his sentence.

Because Hee-beom had thrown away his cigarette and grabbed his chin, slamming their lips together.

It was exactly that—a slam.

A hard, violent collision that sent their teeth crashing against each other.

Crushed, pressed, smeared lips.

The pain was evenly distributed between them both.

“Mm—!”

I-young’s eyes widened in shock.

“…….”

Hee-beom, too, kept his eyes open, glaring at him.

The kiss didn’t end at just the collision.

Twisting I-young’s chin to the side, Hee-beom forcefully licked at his lips, pressing down on his soft cheeks.

The pressure forced I-young’s mouth to part slightly.

Hee-beom shoved his tongue inside.

I-young’s body stiffened completely.

Hee-beom felt an unidentifiable sense of exhilaration from that reaction.

He moved roughly, messily, exploring I-young’s mouth without restraint.

His actions were clumsy and aggressive.

Of course, he had no experience with kissing in the first place.

But for Hee-beom, this wasn’t a kiss.

It wasn’t an act of affection.

It was revenge.

Misplaced revenge, maybe, but revenge nonetheless.

“Mmph… ha—”

“…….”

Hee-beom continued to push him back.

Forced backward by his towering frame, I-young staggered until his back hit the railing.

There was nowhere left to retreat, yet Hee-beom still pressed in.

I-young’s thin waist bent backward over the railing.

He instinctively grabbed onto Hee-beom’s arm.

But Hee-beom smacked his hand away.

Instead, he grabbed the back of I-young’s head, pressing their lips together even harder.

A wet, sticky sound filled the air.

Their teeth clashed awkwardly, sharp breaths escaped between them, and I-young’s struggling feet scraped against the ground.

Hee-beom bit his lips, pulled at them.

Shoved his tongue deep into his throat, scratched at his cheeks.

Occasionally, his tongue slipped out past his lips from the lack of control.

It was a crude, ravenous kiss.

He wrapped an arm around I-young’s waist, pulling him flush against him.

I-young’s mouth was hot, slick, and narrow.

His tongue tasted like strawberries.

Probably from the ice cream he had eaten just minutes ago.

The artificial sweetness wasn’t to Hee-beom’s liking.

But he kissed him harder anyway.

Their feet tangled together.

I-young’s polished shoes skidded irregularly against the ground as he was pushed back by Hee-beom’s weight.

The kiss finally ended after a long while.

Their wet lips parted with a faint sound.

Without hesitation, Hee-beom released him.

Losing his support, I-young collapsed onto the ground.

That’s surprising.

For someone whose specialty was floating, he sure crumpled easily.

“Haa… haa…”

“Hah…”

Hee-beom exhaled heavily, tilting his head back toward the streetlamp above.

Then, running his tongue along his damp lips, he tasted something unfamiliar.

I-young’s saliva.

The thought of someone else’s spit was sickening.

And there was a faint taste of blood.

Did something tear?

He probed his mouth with his tongue, but he didn’t taste any more blood.

It must be I-young’s, then.

Was he hurt?

He looked down at I-young but didn’t ask.

I-young sat motionless on the ground, his head drooped low.

The damp earth and rotting leaves beneath him didn’t seem to bother him.

“…….”

Hee-beom clenched his teeth, then released them.

This was exactly what he had wanted to see.

Yet, now that he was looking at it—

It felt strange.

It wasn’t satisfying.

It wasn’t enjoyable.

If anything, he felt worse than before.

“If you don’t want to see this kind of disgusting shit, don’t come looking for me again.”

With that, Hee-beom turned away.

He crossed the park in long, hurried strides, as if fleeing.

But his escape didn’t last long.

Ten steps in, he found himself glancing back.

I-young was still there, unmoving.

His head hung limply, face hidden.

His pale hands rested carelessly on the railing—so white they almost looked like a corpse’s.

“…….”

Hee-beom hesitated.

But he didn’t go back.

Espers didn’t feel pain.

They didn’t die.

They were all the same—disgusting monsters.

He repeated that in his head as he walked away, leaving the park behind.

TL/N: Wow man that’s harsh, at least listen to the boy. I-young is so precious like tf bro even in the cover he looked so cute and precious how can you bro tch sad….