Chapter 160

“Gotta save your parents.”

“……”

With those words, the reason became clear at once. Jaeha’s mouth shut.

“If you go, the odds your parents live go up.”

“…Aiden-ssi.”

“Don’t trust Baek Beomwoo. Be careful. Never take anything he gives you… and stop the adoption.”

Aiden already assumed Jaeha would go. More precisely, he believed Jaeha would choose returning to the past to save his parents rather than “follow Baek Beomwoo.” He was certain Jaeha wouldn’t choose him—that another choice would take precAidence.

Father. That terror-stricken face flashed up—how he’d still tried desperately to shield Jaeha.

Go save Father and Mother, directly. It was a choice with a glimmer of possibility. The path would be hard, avoiding the boss who’d take the same route—but for the fact of their survival alone, it was worth it.

Yet other faces rose inevitably too.

“Jaeha-ssi. I don’t think I’m suffering.”

A face that had resigned itself to everything.

“Since you’re neither esper nor guide, you probably can’t appreciate the grace and honor of being chosen.”

A life lived under pressure, praising the machine of power—a gem that should have shone, ground into the dirt, denied the sun.

Jaeha spoke.

“…Then what about you, Aiden-ssi?”

“……”

“Will you be okay… without me?”

Aiden’s mouth, poised to say more, closed. His lips worked; his eyes lowered halfway.

“No, I won’t.”

“Then—”

“But, Jaeha-ssi. I’m a bastard, but I still want you to be happy.”

In it spilled the pressed-down dregs of longing, affection, worry. It wasn’t pretty. And paradoxically, it was the loveliest Jaeha had ever seen him.

“So. From where I am, I’ll wait for you—until you want to come to me.”

“……”

Tears welled again despite what Jaeha had wiped away. He tried to hold them back this time, not wanting to weaken Jaeha’s resolve. Knowing that, Jaeha still wouldn’t give a clear answer. Even knowing it was unfair to test him, he had to ask.

“What if I don’t come to you?”

“Then…”

He bit the inside of his cheek. Jaeha didn’t read him, but somehow knew what he was thinking.

A conclusion learned from experience: don’t lie.

“Honestly… I’ll regret letting you go.”

“……”

“But I’ll wait.”

His face said he had decided. The voice wasn’t steady. It trembled, on the verge of breaking. He couldn’t hide it as he went on.

“I’ll keep waiting. Until you come.”

“…To the end?”

“To the end.”

Jaeha smiled faintly—and for some reason, his nose stung, his face going wobbly.

“You might meet someone better, guiding other espers.”

“I’ll quit guiding on the spot.”

“……”

Could the only S-rank Guide in Korea do that? The absurd thing was, he seemed the type who could retire by any means necessary.

“Aiden-ssi, you’re…”

“……”

“…crazy too—but in a different way.”

It wasn’t the bitter, disgusted tone from earlier. The laugh that slipped out, mixed with a quaver, embarrassed him—the pounding of his heart felt loud enough for Aiden to hear.

And then—

“Ye Aiden. Your turn.”

The boss, chin propped, watching with avid delight, called his name. The gate’s ripple sounded clear again.

EAiden lifted his head, looking at the boss. Tears pooled at his lashes and dropped to the ground.

“…Jaeha-ssi.”

His voice, urgent now, called him. With his sleeve he scrubbed his face roughly. The uniform wasn’t soft; the skin around his eyes reddened and swelled.

“L-lastly…”

It was the first time Jaeha had seen him stutter—like a clumsy youth before a crush. It wasn’t like him at all, yet it didn’t feel faked. Jaeha watched him quietly.

“Lastly… may I hug you?”

Because Jaeha hadn’t denied the idea of leaving through the gate to the past, he assumed “last” naturally. Pitiful, a little. Jaeha thought of reassuring him now—but didn’t.

“……”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached first, arms circling Aiden’s nape—just like when he’d boxed him in against the wall in the boss’s illusion.

Unlike in the illusion, Jaeha’s Aiden hugged him tight in return. He even lifted the broken arm to hold him; Jaeha nearly told him not to, but remembered hugging his father hard, wanting no regrets. Aiden would feel the same.

“……”

The tremble in Aiden’s breath carried sobs. Jaeha realized: Aiden was this much a crier.

Even in the firm embrace, his body shook; his heart hammered. The heat of him bordered on fever, and worry crept in. It felt reversed: once, Jaeha trembled and Aiden soothed; now it was the opposite.

“…Aiden-ssi.”

He called him, belatedly, to soothe him. But Aiden, stubborn like a child, didn’t answer.

“Aiden-ssi, there’s something I want to say.”

“…No.”

Face buried against Jaeha’s shoulder, he shook his head. Dampness touched Jaeha’s shoulder; a small laugh escaped him.

“I should say it…”

“No. Not now.”

“Then when?”

“…Outside the gate.”

Jaeha patted his shoulder slowly. Aiden, speaking without lifting his face, made his voice a murmur. Jaeha suddenly wanted to ask:

“How do you know I’ll come find you…”

“…I’ll wait till then. You’ll come if only because you’ll want to say it.”

He joked, but peeked for reaction, as if trying not to burden him. It was impossible not to notice. A light smile crept out. He wanted to see Aiden’s face again.

He began to loosen the hug, but Aiden didn’t release him. Jaeha couldn’t force it, not with that broken arm.

“Aiden-ssi, the truth is…”

He tilted his head to whisper softly—when—

“Ye-A-i-den.”

“……”

“Sorry to butt in, but if you don’t go now, it’s just you and me here getting cozy, okay?”

Like someone cutting a movie at a crucial scene, the boss’s voice slipped in, tinged with faux apology. Jaeha rolled his eyes up at him.

“……”

He disliked how his soft, gentle mood turned at once cold and prickly. The sight alone—cracks venting darkness, lightning flashing within—drew a visceral disgust and tension to his muscles.

Perhaps the tension transferred into his body.

“……”

Aiden slowly loosened his arm from Jaeha’s back. And stepped away.

“……”

Jaeha studied his face. Sensing the gaze, Aiden managed a faint smile. His hand rose, brushed Jaeha’s cheek, and fell.

“I’ll go.”

With a face dripping with regret, he walked slowly to the gate. Not the one the boss had taken—the other one. Unlike the boss, he kept his eyes on Jaeha to the very end. With a face twisted by sadness and lingering want, he took a few forced deep breaths. He scrubbed at his eyes again, rough, and looked at Jaeha.

“Jaeha-ssi.”

He smiled wide, in the end. The remnants of tears and the flushed heat across his face laid bare his mess of feelings. But unlike before, he didn’t shape his face or stage anything. The smile wasn’t lovely, wasn’t sweet.

It was simply dear.

“I love you.”

“……”

“I’ll be waiting on the other side.”

Without waiting for Jaeha’s answer, he stepped out. The gate rippled and swallowed him whole.

And Jaeha was left alone in that room.