The Signs of a Breakdown

When he came to his senses, all that misfortune had coalesced into a new direction for his life.

He had the danger of rampages but had lost his abilities as an Esper, making him unable to be active at the Center.

Contact with others was impossible, leaving only Guiding medication as a precarious state.

This led Taehwa into an unwanted marriage.

It had become clear he was not such a great hero as to be granted an inevitable narrative.

Therefore, he had to cautiously utilize the few remaining moments of choice in his life.

Life married to Se-jun would not be peaceful, as people mistakenly thought.

As long as no major problems arose, the marriage was within the scope of what he could choose.

At least until now.

In this situation, the mere exceptional fact that physical contact did not entail pain meant Yoo Hyun could be a rather appropriate way out.

The fact that he happened to be in a predicament, allowing Taehwa to easily draw him in, could also be considered luck.

In that sense, the ‘strategic partnership with Goo Yoo Hyun’ he chose had good justification and sounded plausible.

For once, things seemed to be flowing according to his plan.

It was true he had taken lightly the relationship he would establish going forward.

That is, until he discovered the Name on Yoo Hyun’s wrist.

“That on your wrist… is it a Name?”

Yoo Hyun rolled his eyes as if flustered, and Taehwa, at that reaction, stared at the wrist that was now covered and invisible.

It was definitely letters.

Either a love tattoo, as commonly called—meaning an Imprinted Name—or a tattoo engraved with meaning.

Given he was an idol, it should be a tattoo.

But seeing how he had no mental composure left to claim it was a tattoo right after being caught, the probability of it being an Imprinted Name was high.

July, Yoo Hyun’s hand and Name spreading like wildfire on social media, becoming an issue.

Remembering what he had read in a report, Taehwa suddenly blurted out.

“I saw the news. But I thought the Name-ah part was a rumor.”

“……Is it a problem?”

Having a Name didn’t make the contract problematic.

However, if he had accepted the contract despite having a lover, then Yoo Hyun’s situation, which he had considered lucky, would entirely become a trap of his own making.

He despised describing being forced into a choice one cannot refuse to protect someone as ‘negotiation.’

He had not the slightest desire to use someone by cornering them.

He didn’t want to become such a cunning person, averting crisis through someone else’s misfortune….

A sharp pain rang through his head as if a thick iron rod had pierced it.

Taehwa stopped reminiscing and got up from the bed.

It seemed he needed more painkillers.

Not being able to sleep was the same as usual, but his condition was significantly worse than normal.

He had taken sleeping pills and painkillers with the intention of closing his eyes even for a few hours and lain down, but there was no effect at all.

When he stepped outside the room, it was a blindingly bright morning.

Since he had gone in during the pitch-black middle of the night, he must have tossed and turned for hours.

Holding an emotion impossible to define in a single word.

The thoughts he had consciously cut off had just continued on their own like that.

“If it really bothers you, I haven’t signed the contract yet…”

Celebrities are extremely wary of revealing the presence of a Name, so Yoo Hyun’s reluctance to answer was understandable….

–Tell me to go steal the medication instead. If we’re doing it together, that would be much better.

No, actually, he didn’t understand.

Ridiculously, the feeling he felt upon discovering the Name on his wrist was undeniably a clear sense of betrayal.

Why on earth? What did he even know about Goo Yoo Hyun?

Crash—

Taehwa, who was taking a painkiller with his lips, missed the water glass due to the pain drilling into his brain.

It took a while for his vision, which had gone white, to return.

Around his feet, unswallowed pills and glass fragments were scattered on the floor.

With a face as white as a sheet, sweating cold sweat, Taehwa staggered his steps.

The degree of pain was unusual.

It was slightly different from the chronic headache.

It was vicious, like the precursor to a rampage when Guiding was depleted.

Yes, he thought it would happen within a day or two.

Not minding the glass piercing the soles of his feet, he moved toward the bedroom.

“Hey, Taehwa! Joo Taehwa, blood, blood!”

Ji-ho, who had just entered the house, screamed almost in a shriek at the sight.

At the sudden noise, Taehwa slumped down and tightly covered both ears with his hands.

His hearing became extremely sensitive; all sorts of noises roared like thunder in his ears, ringing with a piercing tinnitus.

“Hey, are you okay? No, what’s with your feet? What happened?”

Seeing the bloodied soles, Ji-ho was shocked and unconsciously reached for his ankle.

The moment Ji-ho’s hand touched him, a heat-pain spread instantly over his skin as if burned.

Without thinking, Taehwa moved his arm.

“Kuh-hk, Taehwa, my, my neck…”

Bang—! Ji-ho was flung backward and slammed against the wall before he could do anything.

For a while, he held his neck, coughing and choking.

Taehwa had seen such beings quite often at incident scenes.

Espers threatening and attacking citizens, ultimately self-destructing.

Classified as dangerous individuals, so-called villains.

A being who inevitably harms others cannot become a hero.

From the day he left the Center, Taehwa had tried everything.

He might not become a hero, but he wouldn’t become a villain.

Enduring loneliness and suffering, holed up in his own space, resigning himself that it was something given to him from the start, something he couldn’t even avoid.

If he rampages like this, all his endurance would turn to foam.

Taehwa, stepping on his glass-pierced foot, limped and quickly left the kitchen.

Crossing the dark room where even the shapes of objects were hard to discern, he rummaged through the small storage cabinet next to his bed.

Guiding meds, guiding meds, quickly, anything…

Ji-ho stood at the bedroom doorway, supporting what seemed to be a broken arm with his good arm.

Leaning on the faint light flowing from the living room into the room, he held his breath and watched what Taehwa was doing.

In an instant, his swollen neck made it impossible to even swallow saliva, but he couldn’t run away in fear.

If Taehwa collapsed like that, he would have to report it.

Taehwa, rummaging through a barely visible drawer, managed to find one remaining emergency dose and poured it into his mouth.

The capsule-form Guiding medication had a different purpose from regular Guiding medication, as its effect was temporary.

A large amount of unrefined Guiding absorbed in a short time induced shock.

His senses dulled one by one as if switches were being turned off, and his mind slowly crumbled.

As his swaying body completely collapsed to the floor, only then did Ji-ho come running from not far away with loud thuds.

“Joo Taehwa!”

So noisy…. Taehwa closed his eyes and thought.

****

Quiet for a while, and then.

Taehwa was looking down at his forearm, sullied by the Name scar.

Was this like a punishment inflicted on someone who rejected fate?

Black lines, like vines or lightning, coiled like snakes over his thick forearm like snakes.

Under his wandering gaze, his brain reflexively recalled the terrible pain that had spread throughout his body, and his eyelids trembled as if receiving an electric shock.

Before the door opened, Taehwa sensed a presence and raised his head to look at the door.

“You’re awake?”

As if expecting him to be asleep, Se-jun paused briefly upon opening the door, then soon crafted a gentle smile and pushed a cart inside.

Approaching the bed and removing the catheter connected to Taehwa’s arm, he asked quietly.

“You didn’t get your medication?”

“…….”

“Did Yoon Ji-ho not bring it?”

While Se-jun attached a new IV with skillful hands, Taehwa, without answering, threw a blatant gaze toward his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I thought it was your doing.”

“What?”

“The medication wasn’t working, so I thought you might have swapped it or something.”

At the words spoken without malice, Se-jun, who had been arranging things on the cart, frowned and looked back at Taehwa.

“Not working?”

“Literally. The meds you gave don’t last two weeks.”

“Why are you only saying this now? Then we should have done tests earlier!”

Taehwa, who had let out a long yawn, lay straight and closed his eyes.

But Se-jun seemed to have no intention of ending the conversation there.

He pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down.

The sound of the chair scraping the floor was definitive.

“Open your eyes. Let’s talk.”

“I’m listening. Speak.”

“I heard you collapsed and were brought here again this time.”

“Is it once or twice?”

“Right, it’s not once or twice you’ve collapsed, and you say the meds aren’t working either! See, you need someone to care for you beside you.”

Without even opening his closed eyes, Taehwa chuckled slightly and retorted.

“So it was your doing after all?”

“Joo Taehwa.”

At the lowering voice, Taehwa provided an escape route, saying, “If not, then fine.”

“Let’s talk.”

“I am.”

At the attitude of not listening whether he talked or not, Se-jun’s eyes grew cold.

Se-jun’s palm touched Taehwa’s shoulder.

Only when a cold pain spread over his skin did Taehwa open his eyes and look in the direction where Se-jun sat.

When their eyes met, the chill that had been in the pupils looking at Taehwa vanished instantly, leaving only affection.

“Did I ever ask you for anything? I just told you to think of yourself. You’re sick, and because you’re sick, you need someone to look after you.”

“You don’t have to say that for me to think of myself a lot. So you also, don’t think of me, just think of yourself. And take your hand off. Unless you want your wrist broken.”

At the tone that drew a line to the end, the light of concern that had filled Se-jun’s eyes disappeared.

Se-jun pulled the corners of his mouth into a pretty smile.

His originally kind-looking impression grew even softer.

“Joo Taehwa, even if I don’t beg you, we’re getting married soon. So there’s no need to try so hard.”

Taehwa looked once at Se-jun’s hand still on his shoulder, and once at Se-jun’s face.

In everything about Se-jun, he could read a confidence that Taehwa, not affiliated with the Center, would take care of his body on his own.

A rational, reasonable judgment based on the idea: How dare you, an abnormal being who needs Guiding medication without even being officially affiliated with the Center or an Esper, do anything to me?

At that moment, the tough, tenacious anger that hadn’t dissolved in time and had settled at the bottom flooded his brain.

Taehwa lowered his legs from the bed and suddenly reached out, tightly gripping the slender neck.

“You know, Yeon Se-jun.”

“Khk!”

“I think I understand your feelings. You might have wanted to experiment. You are a researcher, after all.”

“Wh-what…”

Se-jun, pulled right up to Taehwa’s nose, turned red from his gripped neck to his face as if about to burst.

As Se-jun grabbed and clawed at the hand gripping his neck with both hands, Taehwa’s skin also heated abnormally, taking on a different color than before.

The skin coiled with the Name became burning hot.

The curse-like black lines seemed to writhe along the prominent blue veins on his forearm.