PRT | Chapter 2.11

There was no further conversation. A heavy silence fell, light yet weighty. The surroundings were still eerie, and nothing had changed, but it wasn’t as scary as before. Even without explicit reassurance, Kim Heeseo felt at ease.

Sitting quietly, Kim Heeseo glanced at the surface above. If he fell using his ability, could he go back up? Contemplating the possibility, he clenched and unclenched his fists under Seo Yigyeom’s gaze.

“Is passing out a hobby of yours?”

“…I was just checking if I could go up.”

“Why not just ascend to heaven?”

His nonchalant reprimand made Kim Heeseo loosen his grip silently. He already knew his limits. The fluctuating ability and the headache piercing his skull were proof enough.

“Guide-nim is calm even at times like this…”

“There’s no reason not to be.”

Seo Yigyeom’s composure even dispelled the last of his fears. Nodding, Kim Heeseo hugged his knees, resting his chin on them, letting his body relax into the moment.

How much time passed after that? Just when he wondered when the rescue team would arrive, a loud noise came from above.

“Guide-nim, that…”

Startled, Kim Heeseo looked up to see a large piece of debris, presumably from a collapsed road, falling fast. He imagined his head being crushed. It was too late to run.

This is instant death. Definitely instant death.

Pale, Kim Heeseo squeezed his eyes shut. At that moment, his ability burst forth instinctively before his consciousness could even flow. The distorted space completely isolated them from the outside, forming a transparent barrier around him and Seo Yigyeom, like a cradle.

Thud. Thud. The debris hit the transparent barrier, breaking into pieces that fell like snow. Inside the space, it was silent, with no sound penetrating.

“This is quite…”

Seo Yigyeom scanned the space with a peculiar look before letting out a chuckle, like air escaping.

“I like it.”

Uncharacteristically, he smiled with his eyes closed, looking as if he had finally found peace.

* * *

Language is truly fascinating. It enables one to paint scenes for those who haven’t experienced the moment.

The most clever and convenient means of conveying meaning often floats lightly outside the weight of responsibility. Words, which need only be pronounced, could sometimes be sharper than a blade.

Words easily inflate. The process of a single story getting distorted and spreading was simple and straightforward. Kim Heeseo, having endured this repeatedly, knew it well. That’s why the atmosphere he faced at the Esper Management Headquarters felt awkward.

Seo Yigyeom’s assault spread like wildfire, just as anticipated.

Those unaware of the truth talked recklessly. Shock, confusion, and awe mixed together and poured out. The attention and gazes towards Seo Yigyeom surged like high tide, though the person himself showed no interest.

On the day of the incident, after quite some time had passed, the two finally emerged from the underground. Thanks to those with abilities in telekinesis and wind, getting back up wasn’t difficult.

“Are you hurt? There’s blood…”

“I’m fine. It’s not my blood.”

“…I’ll make sure there are no leaks.”

“Why bother?”

From the moment he was brought to the surface by the rescue team, Seo Yigyeom was consistent.

“If they had any sense, they would’ve kept quiet. Don’t waste energy; let them yap.”

He just seemed bored. He appeared so solid as if no words could hurt him. Kim Heeseo quietly observed him, even the way he lit a cigarette and exhaled smoke.

His gaze didn’t easily leave. He couldn’t forget the image of Seo Yigyeom, who seemed to have shed a layer of himself down there.

Standing before numerous eyes, he breathed so calmly in the silence. At that moment, Kim Heeseo speculated about Seo Yigyeom, drawing him deep into his thoughts.

Does even the steadfast Seo Yigyeom sometimes waver? Is this calm demeanor the result of effort?

At the end of his thoughts, he felt something indescribable. Since then, he found himself more aware of Seo Yigyeom, consciously or not.

Even if Seo Yigyeom was indifferent, they couldn’t avoid the commotion. Eventually, a summons came from the Head of Division’s office. Whatever conversation unfolded there, it was clear it wouldn’t be good. Hence, Kim Heeseo felt more uneasy, feeling left out.

“What do you mean?”

A lawsuit? Already unsettled, Kim Heeseo asked again upon hearing this unsettling news.

“Yes. He mentioned a lawsuit right after he came to the hospital.”

“…Shouldn’t I be the one filing first?”

“…Indeed.”

Moon Jung-o, who delivered the news, couldn’t hide his uneasy expression. Kim Heeseo, dumbfounded, let out a hollow breath. A lawsuit? Who is against whom? Was he in a position to do such a thing?

“Did he not fully regain consciousness?”

Lee Chilhyeon, who had been taken to the hospital, was apparently trying to sue Seo Yigyeom. It was absurd to think he would dare do such a thing in his right mind. Swallowing his rising emotions with a dry mouth, Kim Heeseo glanced at Moon Jung-o, who sat quietly.

“He won’t really do it, will he?”

“It’s unlikely, but even if he does, it won’t be an issue.”

His response was no different from Seo Yigyeom’s judgment. Although Kim Heeseo had harbored some vague worries, hearing this, he finally eased his concerns and nodded.

“Will Guide-nim be okay?”

It had been thirty minutes since Seo Yigyeom was called into the Head of Division’s office. He wasn’t one to have long private meetings, so it was concerning. Even Moon Jung-o, checking the time, showed signs of losing his composure.

“He must be sensitive.”

At that moment, the sharp sound of footsteps approached. Without realizing it, Kim Heeseo’s gaze shifted as if he had been waiting. Seo Yigyeom, who soon appeared, carried an even calmer aura than usual.

While Moon Jung-o bowed in greeting, Kim Heeseo followed Seo Yigyeom’s movements with his eyes, directing his attention in the same direction. However, Seo Yigyeom gave no glance and disappeared inside without acknowledgment.

Bang. The door closed with a thud. Kim Heeseo, who had been holding his breath without realizing it, finally exhaled. Given the situation, he wanted to ask if he was okay, but somehow, it was hard to speak up.

“How is Guide-nim’s injury? I haven’t had a chance to ask directly.”

Throwing the question at Moon Jung-o as a last resort, his reaction was odd. Moon Jung-o noticeably hesitated before speaking after a few seconds.

“Is he injured?”

“Uh, yeah… I don’t know exactly where, but he didn’t look good.”

“It’s my fault.”

“No, no. It’s also my responsibility.”

Following Moon Jung-o, who looked as if he had forgotten something, Kim Heeseo also hardened his expression. From Moon Jung-o’s reaction, he could tell that Seo Yigyeom hadn’t received any treatment. He was the type to leave even the slightest wound untreated. He must have dismissed this one as nothing serious too.

Biting his lip in hesitation, Kim Heeseo stood up and headed towards where Seo Yigyeom had disappeared. Knock, knock. After a brief permission to enter in a low voice, he stepped inside.

The room was quiet, just one door separating the space; the air changed dramatically upon crossing the threshold. A cooler, denser silence enveloped the room.

Kim Heeseo, suppressing his presence, cautiously looked at Seo Yigyeom. He was leaning back in his chair, his arm resting on his forehead with his eyes closed, his unique aura drawing attention.

“If you have something to say, say it.”

Seo Yigyeom broke the silence, opening his eyes as if he already knew who his guest was. His clear eyes met Kim Heeseo’s gaze as he approached.

“Are you okay with your injury?”

“I think I said it was nothing.”

Approaching closer, Kim Heeseo carefully observed Seo Yigyeom. Fortunately, there were no new wounds.

“Did you get treatment?”

“I don’t have a habit of self-harm.”

His answer was monotonous, yet Kim Heeseo couldn’t easily be at ease. Even though he saw Seo Yigyeom moving around just fine, he was still worried. He knew this stemmed from his own guilt.

The assault and the fall – he was involved in all of it. He felt sorry, knowing his concern wasn’t solely for Seo Yigyeom’s well-being. Was he using Seo Yigyeom to alleviate his own guilt? Such thoughts crossed his mind. Perhaps Seo Yigyeom could see through to this, making him feel exposed.

“Is that all you had to say?”

He was being told to leave. Kim Heeseo hesitated but neither confirmed nor denied.

“Why all this fuss…”

Seo Yigyeom chuckled, his chin line more pronounced as he tilted his head back. His hair slightly covered his forehead. His voice, trailing off slowly, vibrated against Kim Heeseo’s ears.

“Stop worrying and leave.”

“I don’t want to… but my feet won’t move.”

In the end, Kim Heeseo chose to be honest.

“While you were dealing with all this, I did nothing. I even went to the hospital alone.”

“Good for you.”

“And Lee Chilhyeon, right after he came to, said he would sue Guide-nim.”

“If Kim Heeseo has something to do, do it before your turn comes.”

His response was nonchalant, almost dismissive. With his mouth firmly shut, Kim Heeseo looked at Seo Yigyeom with a face that revealed his inner thoughts. Seo Yigyeom, meeting his gaze, let out a sigh-like laugh.

“So, what’s the point of all this?”

“…”

“Do you want me to comfort you?”

Kim Heeseo paused at the direct question. Was he hoping for that? Was he being that selfish? He wanted to deny it, but his lips wouldn’t move.

“Is this bravery or…”

Seo Yigyeom gave a look of disbelief before standing up. Kim Heeseo just stared at him, standing tall.

“Let’s eat.”

“…Huh?”

At the unexpected suggestion, Kim Heeseo couldn’t help but ask again. Seo Yigyeom, in response, scowled mercilessly.

“I can handle you being stubborn, but not you being dumb. I hate repeating myself.”

Seo Yigyeom draped his suit jacket over his arm and kicked Kim Heeseo’s sneaker with his shoe, then nodded for him to follow.

“You said your feet won’t move.”

“…”

“I’ll make them.”

Under Seo Yigyeom’s close gaze, Kim Heeseo turned his body. As he slowly stepped forward, the sound of footsteps followed. Thud. The sound of existence was conveyed steadily without wavering.

“You can’t even understand when I tell you to drop it.”

“…I do understand.”

While taking steps, Kim Heeseo quietly protested, and Seo Yigyeom smirked.

“Let’s just do this much. It’s enough.”

With his words meant to conclude the matter, Kim Heeseo nodded. It was an action visible to the person behind him as well. At this point, he could only agree. He knew Seo Yigyeom had stepped back for him.

Kim Heeseo moved forward, suppressing the urge to look back. He was curious about Seo Yigyeom’s expression but didn’t shift his gaze. He couldn’t imagine what his own face looked like.

“…”

Thud, the sound of footsteps echoed. His heartbeat matched the slow, heavy noise.

Kim Heeseo tried not to be distracted by the person behind him. If he looked back, he’d only get closer with each step.

The steps, heavy with effort, stopped as they exited the room. Kim Heeseo glanced at Moon Jung-o, who stood up, bowed to Seo Yigyeom, and waited for instructions.

“Moon Jung-o Esper-nim…”

“Jung-o is busy.”

When Kim Heeseo was about to ask if they should go together, Seo Yigyeom cut him off and took the first step. Glancing between Seo Yigyeom and Moon Jung-o, Kim Heeseo signaled to Moon Jung-o before following the one in front.

The person standing in front of the elevator had an expression of boredom. He only stared straight ahead with refined eyes. Seeing this, Kim Heeseo suddenly remembered how Seo Yigyeom was always busy moving about.

“Thank you for coming out when you’re busy.”