Chapter 14

“You didn’t do your homework again.”

Even though Jaekani hadn’t gone to the slaughterhouse and had plenty of time, he still hadn’t completed his assignments. It wasn’t that the work was difficult; he rarely struggled with the problems, and if he did, he had Huikyung to turn to.

Not submitting his homework wasn’t some form of rebellion or an attempt at communication through defiance. It was simply that Jaekani no longer saw the point of enduring such treatment just to be taught.

The only reason he hadn’t shaken off the yoke of expectations until now was that compliance and passive acceptance of his situation were all he had ever known.

“…Is there something going on at home?”

Susan, expecting Jaekani to look frightened or mumble an apology, frowned even deeper at his lack of reaction.

“No.”

To Jaekani, it was absurd that she was asking now, over a couple of missed assignments, when she had never once inquired about the bruises on his face.

“There’s nothing wrong at home. You know that.”

Some changes in emotions demand expression. Jaekani didn’t want to suppress himself anymore.

* * *

“Didn’t do your homework again, huh?”

Jaekani had plenty of free time since he hadn’t gone to the slaughterhouse, yet his assignments remained undone. It wasn’t because the problems were challenging—most of them were easy, and even when he encountered difficulties, he had Huikyung as a resource.

Not completing his homework wasn’t a form of rebellion or intentional communication. Jaekani simply saw no reason to endure such treatment just to learn.

The only reason he hadn’t previously cast off the burden of compliance was that passive acceptance of his circumstances was all he knew.

“…Is something wrong at home?”

Susan, expecting him to look scared or mutter an apology, frowned even more when he didn’t react.

“No.”

It felt absurd to Jaekani that she would ask now—over a missed assignment—when she hadn’t asked anything even when his face was bruised.

“There’s nothing wrong at home. You know that.”

Some emotions demand to be expressed. Jaekani no longer felt like suppressing himself.

* * *

Planning ahead is a foolish idea.

Jaekani decided he would act first and figure things out as he went.

Tools like hammers or bolt cutters required precise timing, so he opted to start with items he could easily procure and dive straight into the situation. Stuffing leftover candles into his pocket, Jaekani prepared to leave. Before opening the door, his gaze fell on the textbooks he wasn’t taking with him today.

For a moment, it felt as though the ground clung to his ankles, keeping him in place. Sighing, he approached his textbooks. Flipping halfway through, he found a few flower rings tucked neatly in the center of the pages.

Jaekani pursed his lips in frustration. Of the nearly ten rings Huikyung had given him, only two remained intact. He wasn’t sure whether he had lost the others in the water tank or while running back home.

Though they weren’t valuable gifts and could be easily replaced by Huikyung, Jaekani still intended to preserve them carefully.

As he looked at the deformed but cherished flower rings, Jaekani’s thoughts drifted to the previous night.

Just before bed, his father had come home, once again heavily intoxicated.

Jaebad’s vices didn’t bother Jaekani so long as they didn’t affect him directly. As usual, Jaekani prepared for sleep in silence, blowing out the candle and pulling the blanket over his head. The sound of dragging footsteps disrupted his attempts to fall asleep, but he kept his eyes closed.

Then came the smell of alcohol.

It felt like just yesterday that his drunken father had struck him, and yet here he was again…

Frustration began to bubble up.

‘When I’m an adult, I’ll smash every bottle of alcohol in front of him.’

Jaekani let out a sigh and lowered his blanket, only to realize the footsteps were headed toward his room instead of the living room.

“…Son.”

Jaekani didn’t answer. Leaning into the darkness, he watched his father. The living room light illuminated Jaebad’s figure, his silhouette dimly visible as he approached.

Jaebad’s steps slowed, his gaze fixed on the flower rings Jaekani had left on the nightstand to dry.

“Have you been to the facility recently?”

Jaebad’s slurred voice was unnerving. Jaekani, initially ready to deny it, reconsidered when he noticed the unusual intensity of his father’s gaze.

“Not recently, no. A while ago. It was for work at the slaughterhouse.”

“Hmm, I see.”

Jaekani kept his expression neutral. Adults like his father and the slaughterhouse manager clearly knew things he didn’t, and he didn’t want to provoke suspicion.

“And since then?”

“I haven’t gone back.”

Feigning curiosity, Jaekani asked

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Just don’t go near there.”

As Jaebad shuffled back to the living room, the stench of alcohol lingered in the air.

Lying back down, Jaekani didn’t respond. The whole interaction left a bitter taste in his mouth.

* * *

Recalling the memory, Jaekani closed the book. He hated this side of his father. If Jaebad wanted to use him as a scapegoat, he shouldn’t act like a concerned parent in the next breath.

Smashing furniture in a drunken rage and warning him to stay out of trouble—it was nothing but selfishness.

As Jaekani left the house, he quickened his pace. The more he thought about his father, the more his stomach churned, as if something vile was crawling inside him. He pushed those thoughts aside and focused on Huikyung, picturing him in his mind instead.

Instantly, his mood lightened.

Huikyung’s demeanor, both serious and carefree, contributed to that feeling. He always kept secrets but seemed like the type to casually reveal things no one else would dare mention, his tone nonchalant yet firm. Jaekani remembered the warmth of Huikyung’s hand, which had once gripped his wrist so effortlessly.

His steps felt lighter.

By the time he reached the underground cell, he had sprinted the whole way. But as soon as Huikyung came into view, Jaekani slowed down, approaching hesitantly—unlike his usual self. After all, he had disobeyed Huikyung’s warning to run and had tried to eavesdrop instead.

Awkwardly fidgeting with his fingers, Jaekani approached like a scolded puppy expecting to be reprimanded.

Watching him through the bars, Huikyung chuckled softly. For the first time, Jaekani looked his age, his lips jutting out as he avoided Huikyung’s gaze.

In the past, every time Jaekani described his life, Huikyung could feel the weight of responsibility and duty on the boy’s shoulders. His dry, matter-of-fact tone suggested he didn’t even realize how burdensome it all was. But here, in front of Huikyung, Jaekani was just a child—so small, so unlike the rest of this wretched village.

‘When I leave this place…’

‘I’ll make sure this boy survives.’

How he would live alone, Huikyung didn’t know, but if Jaekani was to be free beyond the government’s walls, he would ensure it was true freedom.

“You do know you’re in the wrong, don’t you?”

Jaekani muttered under his breath, avoiding eye contact.

“Why didn’t you leave? I told you to run.”

“…Because of you.”

Huikyung arched an eyebrow.

“Because of me? I specifically told you to leave.”

“You never tell me anything! I had to find out for myself,” Jaekani insisted, still avoiding his gaze.

“Oh, so it’s my fault?”

Huikyung teased, noting the boy’s pouty lips practically shouting those words.

“…If you explain everything, I’ll listen from now on,” Jaekani said, his tone still sullen.

“Will you now?” Huikyung pressed, his tone teasing.

Jaekani hesitated, realizing the peculiar power dynamic between them. Wasn’t he supposed to have the upper hand as the one helping Huikyung escape? Yet here he was, cornered.

“…Yes,” he finally admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

“Good boy.”

Though it was a simple compliment, it resonated. Huikyung’s offhand remarks carried a charm that made them surprisingly pleasant to hear.

“Alright, I’ll explain briefly. It’s not a big deal, but…”

“How ‘not a big deal’ does something have to be to end with you being imprisoned?” Jaekani retorted.

“You’re impossible,” Huikyung said with a shake of his head, though a smirk tugged at his lips.

Resting his chin on his hand, Jaekani watched as Huikyung began to speak, carefully separating what he could share from what he couldn’t.

“…I’m an Esper.”

Jaekani blinked a few times, his blank expression betraying little reaction. The silence stretched, and Huikyung frowned slightly. He hated it when people left things unsaid.

“So?”

Jaekani finally asked.

Jaekani’s understanding of Espers and Guides—commonly referred to as “awakened beings”—was minimal. What he did know came from secondhand gossip, often from peers his own age.

“…Do you even know what an Esper is?”

“Someone with powers?”

It was the extent of Jaekani’s knowledge: Espers had special abilities, and Guides were supposed to help them recover. What those powers were or how the recovery process worked was beyond his comprehension.

“Not wrong,” Huikyung replied.

“What’s your ability, then?”

“…Healing.”

“I can do that too,” Jaekani quipped, pointing to his fading bruises. He showed off the yellowing mark on his cheek and then gestured to another spot where the swelling had nearly disappeared.

“What are you even showing me?”

“My cheek.”

Huikyung’s lips twitched as he fought back a laugh, watching the boy innocently poke at his own face.