"It shouldn't be too serious," Se-hwa said, her brows furrowing.
It was only then that Joo-hyun realised the news he had heard wasn't just a hallucination.
Cha In-ho had been injured. He wasn't an esper who was constantly in danger, nor had he been on duty as a guide. Yet, he had been rushed to the hospital.
Bom-i, Se-hwa, and even Seung-cheol. Despite Cha In-ho being the injured one, they were all looking at Joo-hyun with worried faces. This was because Cha In-ho was Joo-hyun's matched guide. Whatever the reason, they had signed a contract and spent time together in the guiding room every week, conversing.
Joo-hyun's hand gripped the hem of his white hoodie. After hesitating for a long time, he let out a sigh and nodded.
Now, several hours later, in the dead of night, Joo-hyun stood in front of the lounge, having sneaked out of his room without anyone noticing. He held a garish orange phone card in his hand. He had barely used it, yet it was already somewhat dirty.
With a click, his injured finger inserted the card into the grey phone. His fingers moved slowly but deliberately as he dialled the number.
The unmistakable ring, which he had only heard once, began to sound.
The corridor was pitch black, but Joo-hyun's eyes, accustomed to the darkness, saw every detail clearly. Cracked walls, peeling paint on the handles, rusty hinges. He looked down at his worn slippers, his toes wriggling.
He didn't know why he was doing this at such an early hour.
For a normal person, it would be time to sleep, and however badly injured he was, calling would surely disturb his recovery. Then again, In-ho might be too injured to even answer the phone.
But why should Cha In-ho's injury matter to Joo-hyun at all? If he couldn't continue guiding, they could just terminate the contract. It was only a one-year contract anyway; it would just end a little sooner than expected.
Although no one would kindly explain the details to Joo-hyun, he would find out within a week. The contract stipulated guiding sessions twice a week, and if In-ho didn't show up, it meant the contract was over.
Despite all this, Joo-hyun didn't hang up the phone. His resolve not to cling to his guide seemed to waver...
"Hello? Is someone there?"
"..."
"Joo-hyun? Is that you?"
Cha In-ho's voice on the other end was slightly lower, softer, with a hint of laughter. The runaway esper banged his forehead against the old payphone. The relief was so immense, it didn't even hurt.
"What was that noise just now?"
"Nothing at all."
Joo-hyun answered as calmly as he could, turning to lean against the wall and lowering his head. As he rubbed his now throbbing forehead, In-ho's voice filled his ears.
"Joo-hyun, were you worried about me?"
Although it made sense to hear it so close to his ear, Joo-hyun flinched in surprise.
Worried? As he sank down to a crouch, his legs giving way with relief, he replied.
"Yes."
Joo-hyun's voice echoed down the dark corridor. In the stillness, even a whisper sounded loud.
"I was worried my guide might have died."
There had been research long ago showing that when an esper and guide matched, hormonal changes made attachment easier. Joo-hyun wondered if that was happening to him too.
If this feeling was due to the match, would he feel the same with another guide?
"…I see."
Joo-hyun, rubbing at the indelible stains on his sleeve, focused on In-ho's voice.
"Don't worry, I'll be out in a few days. I didn't even need to be hospitalised, but everyone insisted, so I had no choice."
Though In-ho tried to sound cheerful, he couldn't hide the weariness in his voice.
"I'll be back for guiding next week, so don't worry."
He couldn't bring himself to say he wasn't worried about the guiding. It felt strange to admit he was concerned about In-ho, not as his matched guide but as a person.
Other than being an esper and a guide, there was nothing between them. Why would Joo-hyun worry about In-ho instead of the guiding sessions? Joo-hyun didn't want to desire guiding or the guide himself. He didn't want to suffer loss like Han-gyeol or others in Block C.
"Anyway, it's a bit boring here, so thanks for calling, Joo-hyun."
Joo-hyun stared at the cold, grey floor between his feet, unable to bring himself to apologise for disturbing his rest and hang up.
"How did you get hurt?"
"A staff member was moving something and it all collapsed. I jumped in without thinking and... haha."
"And you think that's something to laugh about?"
He was surprised by how harsh his tone was, but he didn't retract his words.
"Do you have a hero complex or something? What if you'd gotten seriously hurt? Why would you do something so reckless when you're not even an esper?"
There was silence on the other end. He could hear faint breathing, so the call hadn't been disconnected, but without seeing his face, he couldn't tell how In-ho felt.
"Everyone else called it heroic."
"That's not heroism, it's recklessness. If you had died, that person would live with guilt forever. What about the trauma for everyone there?"
He hadn't called to scold him. He hadn't picked up the receiver to say these things. But he couldn't stop his mouth from moving on its own.
Joo-hyun squeezed his eyes shut, trying to compose himself. He wouldn't blame In-ho for never calling again. Who was Joo-hyun to lecture him? It was presumptuous.
Yet, part of him felt relieved, and he waited for In-ho's response.
"Joo-hyun."
In-ho's voice was neither high nor low, neither fast nor slow, but it sounded very calm. At that moment, Joo-hyun thought he heard a faint sigh.
"Were you afraid I might have died?"
The corridor, without a single window, was in complete darkness. In the blackness, the runaway esper's blood-red eyes opened and closed repeatedly.
Joo-hyun wanted to say no. He wanted to shout that someone who feared death wouldn't fear another's death. But the calloused and scarred palm rubbing his dry face told another story.
Cha In-ho wasn't an esper. He was a guide, a matching guide, but he didn't follow Joo-hyun on missions. Although the civilian world wasn't completely safe, accidents and deaths happened every day.
However, Joo-hyun had never anticipated In-ho's death. For that reason, he...
"Where did things go wrong?" He pondered silently.
Was it the moment he reached out for a bomb he knew was armed? The day In-ho saved his life? Perhaps it was the moment he saw the anxious face of a man who had accidentally pressed the pager and tried to stop the staff.
Having finished his dry wash, Joo-hyun's eyes sparkled. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't smiling either. If anything, he felt resigned as he opened his mouth.
"And if I was afraid, then what?"
A cowardly dog barks loudly. Joo-hyun wasn't a coward, nor a dog, but that's how he felt now.
With a silent sigh, Joo-hyun bowed his head, clutching the back of his head. What could In-ho possibly do even if he knew? Moreover, why tell a sick person? But it was too late to be honest now. He began to regret making the call.
"Who worries like that?"
"Ah, yes. I'm sorry for this. If you don't like it, just stop doing reckless things."
"I didn't say I didn't like it."
"..."
"Actually, it makes me very happy."
Joo-hyun, who rarely made anyone happy, looked up sharply. Realising he was alone in the corridor, he lowered his head again, unable to hide his slightly blushing neck.
"With so many people worrying about you, why would you be happy?"
"Because you don't worry because others do. You have strong pride. It's like... rarity?"
"If you're teasing me, I'll hang up."
"Haha, I'm serious."
A light silence followed. However, it wasn't as awkward or uncomfortable as before. Joo-hyun shifted his posture, leaning against the wall. He tucked his knees under his chin, feeling more at ease.
"You said hero complex earlier, right? Thinking about it, you're probably right."
In-ho's voice was soft and gentle, yet slightly unsteady. Perhaps his illness had weakened him, making him more vulnerable.
"I always feel like I need to help someone... don't you feel the same, Joo-hyun?"
Honestly, it was surprising. Joo-hyun had always thought of In-ho as confident, a bit annoying, and carefree. Although he had realised In-ho wasn't entirely lighthearted, he hadn't expected him to think this way.
"...I guess I have a lot of sins to atone for."
Joo-hyun, not physically in pain, couldn't understand why his weak spots were showing.
He wanted to atone, but the more he lived, the more he craved air, the more sins he seemed to accumulate. Perhaps, as his mother had said, he was destined to live and die in despair.