THIFSGSTW CH 59

Chapter 59: I’m ready

Song Ha-gyeon hurried over to where Sun Yihan lay asleep. The book he had intended to retrieve was already forgotten.

Sun Yihan did not wake. No, he could not wake. No matter what method he tried, he simply wouldn’t rouse.

If he shook his frail body, Sun Yihan would open his eyes for a brief moment. But his vacant gaze barely registered anything before he drifted right back into sleep.

His gasping breaths were laced with fear. Hot tears streamed down from beneath his tightly shut eyelids. For hours, he struggled within his dreams, as if tearing through them in distress, until at last, like a thread snapping, he fell into an unmoving sleep.

‘This doesn’t happen often…’

Ever since that night, Song Ha-gyeon had made it a habit to step out of his research lab and walk to his room whenever the sky began to lighten with dawn. Every single day.

Each time his hand reached for the doorknob of the closed door, he found himself unconsciously tensing up.

It wasn’t as if Sun Yihan frequently had nightmares. But it wasn’t rare, either. And each time it happened, he would always develop a fever.

Whether high or low, the fever never subsided easily, even after taking medicine. At some point, Song Ha-gyeon realized that Sun Yihan’s flushed cheeks only began to cool after the nightmare had ended.

‘What kind of dreams does he have?’

Even now, Sun Yihan showed no signs of waking..

After today’s conversation, Song Ha-gyeon was certain, the nightmares had to be related to the divine power within him. The scattered words he mumbled in his sleep fit together like puzzle pieces. It must have been forced upon him.

Yet earlier, when Sun Yihan had explained the situation, his expression had been calm. As if it was nothing at all.

And so, Song Ha-gyeon wasn’t entirely sure. Did Sun Yihan even realize that receiving the god’s power had not been his own choice?

‘No, there’s no way he doesn’t know.’

How could he not? He must know whether he had wanted it or not. There were only two possibilities.

Song Ha-gyeon recalled the words Sun Yihan had said. ‘I have to go somewhere. I have to do something.’

There was something in those words. A nuance that wasn’t born from his own will but from something else entirely. Song Ha-gyeon had picked up on that subtle tone immediately.

Yet, every time Sun Yihan spoke like that, he wore the same gentle smile. As if he had willingly accepted it.

‘He must think he has to receive the power of the gods.’

Maybe that was what he believed. Maybe he had accepted it as his duty.

Song Ha-gyeon had long suspected that Sun Yihan held no fond memories of the temple. It wasn’t just him, everyone had likely noticed.

The way Sun Yihan instinctively stepped back, the way he reacted awkwardly to people’s gazes as if they were unfamiliar, the way he barely paid any attention to himself at all. It was impossible not to notice those things.

Maybe that was how he had always lived in the temple, constantly setting himself aside. The thought made Song Ha-gyeon open his mouth before he even realized it.

“Sun Yi-han.”

His voice was low and heavy, as if pressed down. Song Ha-gyeon leaned over to Sun Yi-han and gently brushed his forehead.

The expression of someone on the verge of tears was clearly visible. It was a face that couldn’t be seen on a Sun Yi-han who was awake. The fragile look made Song Ha-gyeon freeze for a moment. He struggled to steady his breath, which felt caught in his throat.

When someone showed two different sides, one when awake, one when unconscious, which one should he believe? Song Ha-gyeon leaned toward believing the latter.

Burying one’s emotions could become second nature to some. Song Ha-gyeon understood that well.

“If you don’t want to do something, then say so.”

He dipped a towel in water and placed it over Sun Yihan’s fevered forehead.

Sun Yihan always said he was fine. But Song Ha-gyeon had never been sure whether that meant he was truly fine or if he simply didn’t care anymore.

“You don’t have to do anything. Do what you want to do.”

Song Ha-gyeon thought to himself, perhaps, all along, this was what he had wanted to tell Sun Yihan. That he hoped Sun Yihan would only do what he truly wanted. And if that was the case, then the person who needed to make that happen was—

He cut off his own thoughts and looked out the window.

Dawn was breaking.

Sun Yihan had finally fallen into a deep, unmoving sleep. When Song Ha-gyeon placed a hand on his neck, his skin was still burning.

‘His fever’s still high.’

He needed another dose of medicine.

Carefully, Song Ha-gyeon lifted Sun Yihan into a sitting position, supporting his limp neck. Gently, he parted his heat-flushed lips and let a few drops of fever medicine trickle inside.

As he wiped away the syrup that dripped down Sun Yihan’s chin, Song Ha-gyeon thought, at this rate, he might not wake up for a long time.

And just as he had expected, Sun Yihan remained bedridden the entire following day.

◇

When Sun Yihan opened his eyes, clear, water-like irises reflected the world.

‘Wait… hold on.’

It was morning. The world was bathed in a dim blue light. The morning air, faintly veiled within the room, made everything feel hushed and still. The scent of medicinal herbs lingered in the air.

And then, a familiar ceiling came into view. A ceiling so familiar that there was no mistaking it. This was Song Ha-gyeon’s room. But when I fell asleep, I wasn’t here. Why was I suddenly back in Redeo?

“Sun Yihan.”

Song Ha-gyeon’s voice came from right beside me. I hadn’t even noticed his presence, he’d been that quiet. Slowly, he reached out toward me and removed the lukewarm cloth that had been resting on my forehead.

“…How do you feel?”

“Huh? I’m fine…, cough.”

My throat was hoarse. This was bad. The situation was familiar. I must have slept for a long time.

I couldn’t afford for that to happen this time. I had already said I would rest for only a week. There wasn’t enough time. Would I be able to go to the temple and meet my Teacher?

As I hurriedly tried to sit up, Song Ha-gyeon gently pressed down on my shoulder. Then, carefully supporting my back, he helped me sit up. His touch was cautious.

He brought a glass to my lips himself. After taking a few sips of water neither too hot, or too cold, my throat finally started to feel better.

“Ha-gyeon hyung, how much time has passed?”

“…A day. You came back yesterday morning.”

That was a relief. Not too much time had passed. Sensing my urgency, Song Ha-gyeon spoke faster than usual.

“I contacted the temple. As soon as we arrived.”

“You have a way to contact the temple? No, more importantly, what did they say?”

“They said it’s against the rules….”

Song Ha-gyeon, who had been quietly studying my face, gently brushed my cheek. His touch was soothing, as if to comfort me. Then, he spoke again.

“There is a way. I can try reaching out again. …Or you can speak to them yourself if you want.”

I nodded vigorously. I needed to talk to Teacher first. Song Ha-gyeon lightly grasped my chin.

“Stop that. Your fever only just went down.”

It seemed that, as he had said before I fell asleep, I really had come down with a fever. Once things settled down, I needed to seriously think about my health. This was becoming a real problem.

Song Ha-gyeon slid an arm under my legs and supported my back as he lifted me up.

“Hyung, I can walk. Where do we need to go?”

“…Do you have the strength to stand?”

“Uh….”

Now that I thought about it, my body felt completely limp. Like I had just soaked in hot water for too long and turned into mush. The fact that I only just realized it showed how out of it I was.

“Thank you, hyung.”

“Your fever was high. …Just lean on me.”

Song Ha-gyeon stepped out of the room and started walking slowly down the hallway. The corridor was eerily quiet. Well, that made sense, everyone would still be asleep at this hour. Morning had only just arrived.

The air felt slightly warmer than before. Summer was creeping closer. Spring always passed too quickly.

As Song Ha-gyeon carefully descended the stairs, his body swayed slightly.

“…Everyone’s in the study.”

“Huh? Even at this hour?”

“Yeah.”

I had been wondering why they were in the study at this time, but before I could ask, Song Ha-gyeon was already standing in front of the study door.

With a flick of his hand, the door opened on its own, he must have used magic. Just as he had said, three people were inside.

Raen was sitting in a chair in front of the desk. Park Yul had pulled up a long, black sofa across from him and was seated there, while Min Joo-hyuk was leaning against the wall.

They all froze when they saw me. Then, urgent voices followed.

“Sun Yihan! Are you okay now?”

“Yihan, you were really sick. How do you feel now?”

“We were worried, Yihan. Do you want something to eat? I can make you something right now.”

I must have said I was fine about five times. I didn’t feel like eating anything at the moment. Song Ha-gyeon calmly set me down on the sofa before sitting beside me.

“I’m going to contact the temple.”

“Alright. So, you’ve made up your mind.”

“I’ll head there as soon as possible.”

The moment Song Ha-gyeon spoke, Min Joo-hyuk sprang to his feet and disappeared out the door.

Raen sent a small glass floating toward me. Song Ha-gyeon took it and held it up to my lips. It was warm honey tea, just the right temperature.

“The temple provided a means of communication. Joo-hyuk went to retrieve it just now.”

Min Joo-hyuk soon returned, holding a large, shimmering blue crystal. As Raen laid a thick cushion on the desk, Min Joo-hyuk placed the crystal carefully on top.

“If we break this crystal, we can contact them, Yihan. The connection lasts until the dust fully disperses. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready.”

“Right away? You don’t have to rush.”

I shook my head. Yes, I was in a hurry, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t prepared. I knew myself well. I could handle this calmly.

“Alright. Then, let’s begin. This crystal can’t be broken with magic, so it’ll be a bit noisy. Hyungs, I’m starting now.”

Min Joo-hyuk exchanged a glance with Park Yul and nodded. Soon, I felt hands gently cover my ears from behind. The warmth of the touch lingered.

Min Joo-hyuk placed a thin, nail-like tool against the crystal. Then, raising a long silver rod, he struck down hard. The veins on his forearm bulged as he did.

After Min Joo-hyuk repeated this three or four times, the crystal split in half. From the cracks, a brilliant blue powder trickled out, rising into the air like smoke before gradually dispersing.

Not long after, a quiet voice filled the room.

[Yes. Please state your business.]

It was Teacher’s voice. If another priest had answered, things would have been complicated. What a relief. Taking a deep breath, I spoke.

“Teacher… It’s Sun Yi-han.”