TG Ch 9 Part 5

Late at night, Sijin left the examination room.

He headed to the guiding rooms, located right next to the research and examination building. It was the building with the cafe Sijin liked on the first floor. It had originally been a dormitory, but due to the high vacancy rate, it had been repurposed as guiding rooms.

Sijin passed the quiet first-floor cafe and took the stairs instead of the elevator. According to the records, Jeong Taeyul was waiting in the guiding room on the fourth floor. Clutching the aluminum case containing the examination equipment, Sijin climbed the stairs, rehearsing what he needed to say.

[402]

Reaching Guiding Room 402, Sijin hesitated for a moment before knocking.

But if it was Jeong Taeyul, he would have already sensed his presence. Sijin, nervous like a child about to be scolded, knocked on the door.

Knock, knock.

“Guide Jeong Taeyul, I’m coming in.”

Sijin spoke as casually as he could and waited for a reply. A short response came from inside.

“Yes.”

Sijin paused with his hand on the doorknob and closed his eyes. In these situations, there was a high chance that two people were already inside the guiding room together. Sijin took a deep breath and carefully opened the door.

As he opened the door, the guiding room, with a layout similar to his dormitory room, came into view. A queen-sized bed sat in the center of the dimly lit room, illuminated only by a mood light, and simple furniture with little sign of personal touch surrounded it.

And, strangely, Jeong Taeyul was standing in the middle of the room, shirtless, wearing only black sweatpants.

The ends of his chocolate-colored hair were damp, and he had a towel draped around his neck. He must have just showered; a refreshing scent of soap filled the room, and his eyes, visible beneath his wet hair, seemed particularly sharp today. Dark circles were visible under his eyes, and his complexion didn’t look very good.

But Jeong Taeyul had that look in his eyes. The look Sijin often saw when he examined him in the examination room. An intense, almost predatory gaze, tinged with a hint of hunger.

Sijin stared at him, clutching his pad, then quickly averted his gaze.

‘Why did he shower? I heard he didn’t like skinship guiding…’

Seeing Jeong Taeyul freshly showered made Sijin’s heart sink. It might be a trivial matter, but it felt like he was being forced to confront a reality he wanted to avoid. 

Sijin composed himself and slowly stepped inside, saying, “I’m here for the diagnosis and guiding consultation.”

“Okay.”

“How are you… feeling? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

Jeong Taeyul’s voice was low and raspy. He still didn’t seem well.

Sijin decided to proceed with the diagnosis quickly and calmly approached the table in the center of the room, placing his pad for recording readings on it.

Meanwhile, Jeong Taeyul, as if keeping his distance, sat down heavily on the bed. To Sijin, every signal felt like a rejection of his presence. His fingertips, holding the pad, trembled slightly from the disappointment.

“Then…”

Sijin composed himself, picked up the chart, and stood up straight.

The dim lighting in the room created an awkward atmosphere. Unable to find a place to rest his gaze, Sijin forced himself to look at the chart as he gave his diagnosis.

“Frequent use of sedatives can lead to dependency, so I recommend continuous guiding today.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll… leave the basic examination tools on the table here, and please send me your guiding records every three hours in real-time. I’ll be in the examination room all day… so please call me if you feel unwell.”

“…Okay.”

Jeong Taeyul replied as if he already knew. Of course he did. As an A-rank, it was a consultation he must have heard countless times. He could probably end the explanation here.

But Sijin stubbornly continued, his voice trembling slightly, “Right now, your waves are clustered unstably throughout your body… You need continuous and stable skinship guiding. So, at least six hours of guiding with an Esper with a matching rate of 60% or higher. The Esper…”

Sijin checked his pad for information. His hands fumbled a few times due to his heavy heart, but he soon found the Espers with the highest matching rates with Jeong Taeyul.

[Guide Jeong Taeyul] [Sorted by Matching Rate]

[(A) Esper Ham Geonwu – 69%]

[(B) Esper Lee Chando – 63%]

[(B) Esper Park Yoona – 60%]

Sijin sorted the list by matching rate. His matching rate with Ham Geonwu had recently decreased slightly. Esper Lee Chando was an ability user from the Alpha Team who worked with Jeong Taeyul, and Esper Park Yoona was currently on vacation and not at the center.

Jeong Taeyul would probably choose Esper Lee Chando for guiding instead of Ham Geonwu, who had to lead the Alpha Team in his absence. For at least six hours, in the same room…

Lost in thought, Sijin remembered his role as an ordinary person.

‘…There’s no need for me to explain further.’

He was merely wasting time in front of a sick person, clinging to his lingering feelings. Sijin quietly bit his lower lip. He could no longer interfere with who Jeong Taeyul chose for guiding. Guiding was his choice; Sijin’s role was only to recommend the best course of action.

“Just in case… I’ll leave the guiding crystals here.”

“……”

Jeong Taeyul didn’t answer. Only his dark silhouette, sitting on the bed in the shadows, was visible. He had his hand on his forehead, not even looking at Sijin. His head must have been hurting from the aftereffects of the near-berserk episode.

“Then… I’ll be going.”

Sijin had many questions he wanted to ask, but remembering Jeong Taeyul’s exhaustion, he reached for the doorknob.

Just then, Jeong Taeyul called out to him softly, “Doctor Baek.”

“…Yes.”

Sijin answered, facing the door. His voice trembled slightly, but thankfully, Jeong Taeyul couldn’t see his anxious expression. He would surely look like a child about to be scolded.

Then, Jeong Taeyul spoke in a low, raspy voice, “From now on, even if I go berserk, don’t try to calm me down like you did earlier.”

“……”

“Use the tranquilizer gun instead.”

“……”

Sijin didn’t know why those words stung so much.

Sijin stared at his white hand on the doorknob. Looking at his weak hand, he felt a surge of sadness. He was an ordinary person. He couldn’t calm a berserk Guide. He knew this better than anyone.

He had done his best, and yet he was being told not to even do that.

“…Guide Jeong Taeyul.”

His voice, as he finally called out, was feeble. Sijin slowly removed his hand from the doorknob. He felt like if he left now, he would never have another chance to talk to him.

Sijin slowly turned around.

“…I just have one question.”

“Don’t.”

Jeong Taeyul murmured from the bed. His unstable, husky voice sounded like a predator giving a warning. But Sijin continued, “Why…? Are you saying this because you don’t want to hurt me again?”

“……”

“Just… answer that.”

Jeong Taeyul slowly stood up, looking at Sijin. His irritatingly tall height stood out. In the dim room, only his toned physique and the lines of his body as he took a deep breath were visible.

“Haven’t you learned anything from fainting last time?”

“……”

His voice was much harsher than usual.

“I’m asking if you haven’t learned anything from getting hurt.”

“But, I…”

Sijin tried to say something in a melancholic voice.

Then, Jeong Taeyul, as if unable to bear it any longer, strode towards Sijin and placed his hands on his shoulders and the door, clearly intending to push him out.

Sijin, his back against the door, whispered pathetically, “I… don’t want to see you in pain.”

“……”

He stopped at the weak voice.

Now, the two men stood facing each other. Feeling the cold touch of the door against his back, Sijin slowly clenched his trembling hands.

He couldn’t stop now that he had revealed his true feelings. But he couldn’t bring himself to look at Jeong Taeyul, so he continued murmuring pathetically, his gaze fixed somewhere on the floor, “Seeing you in pain… makes me feel so helpless and scared…”

“……”

“And yet you’re telling me… to do nothing?”

Sijin slowly raised his head. His vision was slightly blurry with tears, but he could still make out the hard lines of Jeong Taeyul’s jaw as he clenched his teeth and the tension in his arm as he gripped the door.

Even though he knew he would be rejected, Sijin asked stubbornly, “Am I… really of no use to you?”

“……”

Jeong Taeyul took a deep, shaky breath at the question.

His broad shoulders and toned chest filled Sijin’s view. Even though he felt intimidated by their size difference, Sijin didn’t regret voicing the words that had welled up inside him.

“…Use?”

Jeong Taeyul chuckled hollowly, as if in disbelief, then muttered as if to himself, “Do you even know what you are, the only thing I need?”

Jeong Taeyul looked down at Sijin with intense eyes.

His characteristically sharp gaze felt like it was piercing Sijin’s pale cheeks. Sijin bit his trembling lip. Surely, what he needed wasn’t Sijin, but an Esper.

He murmured to Sijin as a final warning, “This, standing here like this in front of me, is a mistake.”

“……”

Sijin knew. What he was doing now was a reckless mistake. Pouring out his pathetic feelings to an ability user under his care, especially one who was unwell.

But Sijin had realized something facing his near-death experience. His life, driven by guilt and hard work, had been empty. He should have followed his heart more, made more mistakes.

“From the beginning, these were words meant to be a mistake.”

Sijin said in a slightly trembling voice.

“When you like someone… everyone makes mistakes.”