IDESGI Chapter 41

Chapter 41

When he finally managed to lift his heavy eyelids, he saw Ihan’s face, fast asleep.

Yeoul pouted as he looked at him.

“You wear me out like that and then sleep like a baby.”

Ihan had devoured him with such ferocity it felt like he’d been eaten whole. Thanks to that, Yeoul’s body was now covered in red marks and left in tatters.

“…Still, I guess it’s nice that you can sleep well.”

Yeoul leaned lightly against Ihan’s rising and falling chest. He knew well that this heart, now beating calmly, would race the moment it looked at him. Yeoul wasn’t any different from Ihan in that way.

There was no clock inside the bunker. With no windows, it was hard to tell if it was day or night. Morning was when they woke up together, and night was when they fell asleep together.

The lack of a clock didn’t mean time had stopped, yet here, his sense of it slipped away. It felt like the world had frozen, leaving only the two of them breathing and moving.

It was as if they were castaways on a deserted island, not waiting for rescue, but building a home and living there. And the fact that it felt so satisfying made Yeoul think he was ridiculous.

‘I don’t have time to be doing this here.’

Soon, their match rate would drop below ten percent, and when that happened, he wouldn’t be able to guide Ihan anymore. Ihan’s life would also gradually fall into danger.

‘But… if we’re here, Ihan hardly needs to use his powers, so wouldn’t it be okay?’

If he didn’t work as an Esper, there would be no reason for his overload to rise, meaning Yeoul could stay with him a little longer. Yeoul found himself pathetic for constantly rationalizing like this, but he couldn’t stop. The more time he spent with Ihan, the deeper his desire grew.

I want to stay by your side. I want to ignore the rest of the world and have you all to myself.

He didn’t even have to look to know how chaotic things must be outside without Ihan. But he wanted to forget all of that and stay here with him for even a little longer. His greed kept swelling, unaware that it was already full.

At some point, Ihan woke up and smiled sweetly at him.

“Did you sleep well, Yeoul?”

He should have snapped back with a sarcastic ‘do you think I could?’, but his throat felt blocked and no words came out. He just wanted to hold him and whisper gently. Unable to resist the impulse, Yeoul blurted out instead,

“And you?”

“Huh?”

“Did you sleep well too?”

Ihan’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, then curved into crescents.

“Maybe because I slept next to you… I had a good dream.”

“What kind of dream?”

“Well, you were in it, and…”

Ihan happily began describing the dream he’d had last night. Yeoul silently listened to his silly rambling. Ihan didn’t ask him anything—didn’t question if his sudden warmth meant a change of heart, or why he was acting affectionate again.

The two of them naturally slipped back to the way they used to be—when they loved each other, and because of that, cared for each other.

“Yeoul, come here and try this for me.”

Ihan called from the kitchen where Yeoul was sitting in the living room. When Yeoul approached, Ihan scooped some soup with a spoon and held it up to his lips. After swallowing the broth, Yeoul nodded.

“Tastes just like always.”

“Yeah? Glad I made beef radish soup. You like this, right?”

“Everything you make tastes good.”

“Guess the practice paid off.”

Ihan smiled faintly, and Yeoul found the corners of his own lips lifting as well. When he noticed Ihan staring blankly at him, Yeoul gave him a light tap.

“Ihan, your soup’s boiling over.”

“Oh, right. What’s wrong with me?”

Flustered, Ihan quickly turned off the induction stove and finished preparing the meal. Soon, the table was filled with food, and the two of them sat facing each other to eat.

“Remember that time I promised to make you kimchi stew, but cut my hand and you freaked out? I never thought you’d really forbid me from touching the kitchen again after that.”

“How could I watch you get hurt again, Yeoul? Whether it’s blood or tears, I don’t want you to shed anything.”

Just as Yeoul was about to be touched, Ihan grinned mischievously.

“White’s okay, though.”

Realizing what he meant, Yeoul’s face turned scarlet.

“What are you even saying? At the dining table!”

“Then maybe later, in that sense, we should spill some together.”

“Spill… what?!”

“Oh, I don’t know. Something thick and white?”

“…You’ve lost your mind.”

“Oops, guess you caught me.”

They joked, reminisced, and chatted about various things. But neither of them brought up the outside world, as if they’d made an unspoken promise.

Their peaceful life balanced on a fragile edge.

* * *

Yeoul woke up, thirsty, and found the spot next to him on the bed cold.

‘Where did Ihan go?’

He sat up and headed to the living room to find him. Ihan was sitting on the sofa, fiddling with his watch. Yeoul stopped in his tracks before calling out to him.

He looked as precarious as a small boat tossed about in a storm. It was a look Yeoul had seen before—once in a while, right after Ihan returned from a deployment. If Yeoul called to him, Ihan would quickly smile again, but…

This time, Ihan stayed there for a long while, touching the watch without moving. Something in that scene looked so lonely that Yeoul didn’t dare to speak to him. He stood watching for some time before Ihan finally looked up.

“Oh? Yeoul, you’re awake?”

Ihan stood from the sofa in surprise.

“You should sleep more. Why are you up already?”

“…I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Yeah? Come on, let’s go back to bed.”

Smiling as if nothing had happened, Ihan wrapped an arm around Yeoul’s shoulders. Even as Yeoul lay back down and closed his eyes, the image of Ihan’s face from moments ago lingered—so sad it seemed untouchable.

Cracks began to form in their thin, fragile peace.

* * *

When he had first been locked up, Yeoul had tried to steal Ihan’s watch to contact the Center.

But Ihan even wore it into the shower, and his light sleep meant that if anyone so much as touched his wrist, he would wake immediately. In the end, Yeoul had given up on using the watch to call for help.

Even now, with his escape plans temporarily on hold, Ihan still never took it off. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, he would go out to the living room alone and stare at it. Yeoul wanted to ask why, but the expression on Ihan’s face as he held that small screen looked far too lonely for him to intrude.

‘What on earth is he hiding?’

Even if he asked to see it directly, Ihan would never show him. If Yeoul managed to call headquarters with it, that would be a huge problem for Ihan. As he mulled it over, an idea came to him.

“Ihan, I’m bored. Should we make dumplings?”

“You’re bored? Alright, I’ll get the dough ready.”

They often made dumplings together, so Ihan suspected nothing and began kneading flour. Hovering nearby, Yeoul “accidentally” knocked over the flour container toward Ihan. The flour spilled all over his hands and scattered onto the floor.

“Ah, damn… Sorry, Ihan.”

“It’s fine. Go over there, I’ll clean it up.”

Ihan skillfully tidied up the mess, even wiping the floor clean with a damp cloth. Yeoul glanced at his wrist.

“Your hands are covered in flour. You’d better wash up.”

Apparently thinking the same, Ihan went into the bathroom. A moment later, Yeoul let out a loud scream.

“Ahhh!”

Ihan rushed out in alarm, hands still wet.

“What is it, Yeoul?!”

“T-there… there was a cockroach crawling by!”

“What?”

“Quick, catch it! Ugh, it’s disgusting!”

Ihan rolled up a thin book and searched the spot Yeoul pointed to.

“Yeoul, there’s nothing here.”

“In this tiny bunker, where could it have gone? Look harder—you have to kill it.”

While Ihan crouched down, searching the floor, Yeoul slipped into the bathroom and locked the door. The watch was sitting on the edge of the sink. When he turned it on, a ‘No Connection’ icon appeared at the top of the screen.

“As I thought, no signal here.”

The bunker already blocked reception, and the bathroom was sealed on all sides. Taking it outside would only get him caught and have it confiscated immediately. Looking around for any spot that might get signal, he found none.

Contacting the Center had never been the true point of this anyway. Giving up on outside contact, he returned to his original goal—finding out what Ihan was hiding. Then came a knock.

“Yeoul, what are you doing in there?”

“Just a second, I’ll be out soon!”

There wasn’t much time. He had to be done in under five minutes to avoid suspicion. The watch was locked—either a fingerprint or a passcode was needed.

‘My birthday?’

[Incorrect entry. (1/5 attempts)]

‘Our anniversary?’

[Incorrect entry. (2/5 attempts)]

‘Ihan’s birthday?’

[Incorrect entry. (3/5 attempts)]

‘First date?’

[Incorrect entry. (4/5 attempts)]

One last chance. His nerves tightened as the seconds ticked by. Then, a number suddenly crossed his mind. He hesitated, then carefully entered it.

2291

The lock opened and the screen changed.

‘…He really used this?’

2291—the year Ihan first awakened as an Esper, and the year his parents died.

A bitter taste filled Yeoul’s mouth, but there was no time to linger. He quickly scanned through the menus. The device had so many complex features that he wasn’t sure what to even look for. Eventually, he tapped an icon that looked like a notebook.

A note appeared, listing several names alongside numbers:

Kim Yeohan / Park Hotae / Han Ijeong – 2303
Lim Ji-won – 2301
Park Heon – 2298
⋮
Lee Chan-won – 2292
Yoo Ji-heon / Park Jeong-a – 2291

By the last name, Yeoul realized exactly what this was—a list of the dead. The numbers beside them had to be the years they died.

Scrolling to the bottom, he found a single unfinished sentence.

If I had been stronger, could I have saved them all?

In that moment, Yeoul understood what Ihan had been reading night after night. The record’s last edit time was just the night before.

He had finally come face-to-face with what Ihan had been carrying inside—

In the worst possible way, at the worst possible time.