IDESGI Chapter 42

Chapter 42

His hands trembled. Darkness clouded his vision, and it felt like the ground beneath him was collapsing.

What had been going through Ihan’s mind all this time, staying by his side like this? Carrying so much regret. Wanting to save everyone. Choosing to remain with Yeoul, even if it meant giving up being an Esper—what kind of heart did that take?

It must be a depth of despair so vast and unreachable that Yeoul couldn’t even begin to imagine it.

“Yeoul, open the door.”

Yeoul’s throat tightened, and he couldn’t say a word. The doorknob rattled violently, then finally came off entirely. Ihan forced the door open and stepped into the bathroom. Seeing the watch in Yeoul’s hand, he snatched it away and pulled him into a fierce embrace.

“You still haven’t given up? You can’t throw me away. You can’t just get rid of me like this!”

“…Ihan.”

“Please, don’t abandon me. Why… why are you trying to leave me? Why, for what reason…!”

Ihan’s shoulders trembled. Feeling his shirt slowly dampen, Yeoul wrapped his arms around his back.

“Ihan, let me go.”

“What?”

Ihan pulled back, staring at him in shock. Yeoul calmly repeated himself.

“Let me go, Ihan.”

“Yeoul… how can you say that? How could I ever let you go? You’re… you’re all I have. Why would you say something like that?”

Tears streamed endlessly from Ihan’s eyes. Yeoul only looked at him with sadness. What had brought them to this? Ihan had done nothing wrong. In this relationship, the guilty one had always been Han Yeoul.

The Center Director had once told him,

“Guide Han Yeoul. Bonding with Esper Yoo Ihan is an incredibly selfish thing to do. You should remember that.”

He should have listened. Instead, after hesitating, he let himself be persuaded, and now he loathed himself for it. If only he had refused the bond with Ihan, he wouldn’t have caused him this pain. If they had never met, Ihan would have lived a much better life.

And yet…

He couldn’t erase the time they had spent together. He couldn’t bring himself to let those moments slip away. That selfishness of his—

“I’m sorry, Ihan.”

Sorry for loving you. Sorry for wanting you for myself.

“You have to go back.”

Ihan, you’re not my Esper. I once thought you were, but I was wrong.

“You’re everyone’s Esper.”

The pale gold in Ihan’s eyes darkened with despair. Even as he swayed like he might collapse, he refused to let Yeoul go.

“…That’s the last thing I ever wanted to hear from you.”

He knew. He knew those words would cut Ihan deeply. But they couldn’t stay forever in this tiny bunker, lost in a world of just the two of them. It was time to face the reality they had been avoiding.

“The you who isn’t a hero… isn’t really you.”

would mean denying every moment he had lived and rendering the sacrifices of the dead meaningless.

All because of Han Yeoul.

Ihan, I want to see you live your life. The hard and painful past you’ve walked, the burdens you carry today, the glory that awaits you in the future—every brilliant step you take.

You can’t throw all of that away just for me. Don’t give up on being you.

“Go back to being the hero, Yoo Ihan.”

* * *

This must be what it means when they say you can’t breathe. His heartbeat slowed, and the air in his lungs thinned sharply.

A hero? Yeoul, how could you say that to me?

Only when I’m by your side can I be ordinary. Only then can I breathe freely. How can you throw me away?

“Yeoul… If I lose you, I’ll die.”

He’d faced death countless times fighting monsters, but never had he felt such a threat to his life as in this moment. Yeoul was truly saying goodbye. In eyes that had always carried a trace of lingering attachment, there was no longer any hesitation.

It was like falling off a cliff—or no, it truly was. Right now, Yoo Ihan had died. Yeoul had saved him once, only to kill him now. The sunlight caught on the edge of a leaf—so close he could touch it—extinguished into darkness in an instant.

And now you want me to walk again through a night without light? You were the one who reached out to me when I was wandering lost. You found me. You saved me.

You’re my hero.

“Yeoul, I… I was wrong. Are you mad I kept you here? I’m sorry. If you promise not to leave me, I’ll let you go right now. No—no, I can’t. I don’t trust it. What do I do, Yeoul? Can’t we just live here forever? Is it because the place is too small? We’ll move to a bigger house. I’ll find one with a garden…”

Ihan begged desperately, clinging to him. His own reflection shone in Yeoul’s clear brown eyes, too vivid to look away from. Yeoul stared straight at him—not with the usual lies masking his true feelings, but with complete sincerity.

And that was what terrified him. If Yeoul truly pushed him away, he couldn’t handle it. Yoo Ihan was a pathetically fragile human being—someone who could die from just one sentence from Yeoul.

And Yeoul finally drove the blade into his heart.

“Ihan, why are you doing this? You can’t stay here. You, who tries harder than anyone to protect others—why are you here with me?”

“Yeoul, I don’t save people because I’m righteous.”

Righteous? What a joke. All he had done was dress himself in acts that looked noble, while failing to protect the ones who truly mattered.

“I only did it because I couldn’t bear to make my parents’ sacrifice—dying to save hundreds of thousands—into a meaningless death.”

He couldn’t turn his back on the citizens now. If he did, then his parents would have died for nothing but a fleeting, childish sense of justice. He didn’t want their deaths to be in vain. That was all his “justice” ever was—an empty shell, a hollow fruit with only a glossy skin.

But Yeoul shook his head and pushed him away.

“And that’s exactly why you can’t be here with me.”

Ihan’s trembling hands clutched Yeoul’s shirt as he rested his head on his shoulder.

“You… Yeoul, you were the one who said it—welcome back, you’d say. ‘Good job out there.’ Because you said that to me, I could find the courage to go fight again.”

When Yeoul embraced him, all his pain had melted into warmth. Only after soaking in his warmth did Ihan realize—

He had been shivering from the cold all along.

The heat of his power had masked the chill in his heart, and Yeoul had been the one to soothe it. More than guiding, Yeoul had comforted his entire life. He was Ihan’s only refuge.

“But if you throw me away, what do I have left to believe in? How will I find the courage again? I can’t live without you.”

He had endured that hellish life because Yeoul had been his home. Because when he came back, Yeoul was there. Even if he was injured, even if the headaches from using his energy felt like they would tear his mind apart—he could bear it because he had somewhere to return to.

“Is it because I have the watch? Are you worried I can’t let go of being an Esper? That’s not it. This thing… it means nothing to me. It can’t even compare to you.”

Ihan crushed the watch in his hand.

Yeoul looked at him with quiet sadness, then knelt to the floor and carefully gathered the broken pieces into his palm. He pressed them back into Ihan’s hand.

“Now let’s go back, Ihan.”

Eyes without even a trace of hesitation pierced through Ihan’s heart. Pain filled the hole that had been struck through his chest.

Light killed the darkness. The shadow, torn apart, collapsed on the floor and wept until it couldn’t breathe. Yeoul didn’t comfort him. The abandoned darkness…

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Ihan.”

“…I’ll go clear my head. You can be alone for a bit, right?”

“Ihan.”

The calm sound of his name made Ihan grip Yeoul’s shoulder tightly. The redness in his eyes was laced with resentment.

“Then kill me. Kill me before you leave.”

“…I told you not to say that.”

“If you were going to abandon me, you should have been ready for that. Did you really tell me we should break up without deciding you could kill me first?”

“Just… can’t you just let me go?”

His voice was dry and cracked, squealing like rusted metal.

“We’re only poison to each other. We eat away at and destroy each other.”

“Who says that? Who’s spewing that bullshit? Why can’t we be together? Why?!”

“Because I’m too unhappy when I’m with you.”

Ihan’s mouth, which had been shouting in ragged anger, went still.

“And you make me unhappy.”

“…I… I… Yeoul.”

His voice was damp, his whisper barely escaping from his blocked throat, tangled with sobs.

“I just wanted to make you happy.”

“Then break up with me.”

Ihan’s lips moved for a long time before he finally gave up on speaking and stood.

“I’ll… be back in a bit. Sorry.”

Leaving Yeoul behind, Ihan walked out of the bunker. Alone, Yeoul sat there for a long time, staring blankly into the air.

Then he slowly lowered his gaze and wrapped his arms around his aching shoulders, wanting to feel Ihan’s warmth just a little longer. He held himself tightly.

He didn’t cry.

Because someone who is too sad…

Can’t even cry.