DPGR 54

“Mmm…”

Jiho woke in the late evening.

Lifting his heavy eyelids with effort, he stared at the familiar ceiling, trying to piece his memory back together.

Where am I…?

He distinctly remembered riding in Dojin’s car, yet now he was lying alone in Dojin’s bedroom.

“Ah!”

Startled, Jiho scrambled up and rushed out into the living room.

As he glanced around in search of Dojin, he spotted his shoulder and the back of his head sticking out from behind the sofa’s backrest—and let out a small sigh of relief.

“Haa…”

The sound caught Dojin’s attention, and he turned to look at him.

The living room was completely still, the TV off, everything quiet. Dojin sat there motionless, his face drawn and stiff.

What’s with his expression…?

Jiho could sense an unfamiliar emotion on Dojin’s face—something different from usual.

With dark, sunken eyes, Dojin looked at him and tapped his own knee lightly.

“Come sit over here.”

His voice, at least, was the same gentle baritone as always.

‘Ah… good. I must’ve imagined it.’

Now that he looked more closely, even Dojin’s expression wasn’t that different from normal. He just looked a little tired, maybe lost in thought.

Jiho assumed it was probably due to the incident at the dungeon and approached Dojin, feeling a quiet sense of relief.

But as he went to sit beside him, Dojin wrapped an arm around Jiho’s waist and pulled him onto his lap, gently stroking his soft cheek.

“Did you sleep well? Are you hungry?”

Jiho nodded.

He hadn’t eaten all day, now that he thought about it. But aside from a bit of emptiness in his stomach, he felt fine.

“I ordered a few light dishes—something easy to eat. They should be here soon.”

Nod.

Even as he nodded, Jiho kept sneaking glances at Dojin.

—…You don’t look okay.

His lips parted hesitantly, and mouthed his concern.

Dojin narrowed his eyes and gave a faint smile. But instead of answering, he changed the subject.

“There’s something I’d like to ask.”

Something to ask?

Jiho tilted his head. Dojin met his gaze steadily, and Jiho slowly nodded in response.

Then Dojin reached toward the table, picked up a crumpled piece of paper, and handed it to Jiho.

—What is this?

“Please, read it.”

He nodded toward the paper. Jiho’s eyes dropped slowly to it.

Rustle—

His small hands unfolded the sheet. The caramel color of his irises mirrored the words printed there.

Estimated compatibility rate between Guide Seo Jiho and Esper Seo Yulchan has been confirmed as 99.99%.

…What is this?

The content was simple and direct. Not long, not filled with complicated terms.

But Jiho read it again and again, unable to process what it said.

And then Dojin asked his question.

“Just like with me, your match rate with Yulchan also came out as 99.99%. I considered the possibility of a faulty test—but you guided him without difficulty.”

“……”

“…Is it possible for you to guide other espers regardless of wave pattern?”

“……”

“It doesn’t make sense, but… you’re an S-class guide, and we don’t have much information on S-classes, so…”

Dojin stumbled through his theory, voice shaking with anxiety.

If what he feared was true, it meant Jiho could leave him for another esper at any time.

‘Please, please. Let this just be my imagination.’

But Jiho gave no response. Dojin could only stew in his growing dread.

“…Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

Thud—

His heart dropped. Jiho flinched.

With Jiho in his arms, there was no way Dojin could miss it.

And that was when Dojin realized—his suspicions were at least half true.

He stared at Jiho’s lips in despair and, voice now rough and strained, pressed with another question.

“…At the dungeon earlier, I saw you. You were staring at Yulchan’s feet even before the golem appeared. Like you knew it was going to come from there.”

“……”

“You don’t have anything to say about that, either?”

“……”

Jiho’s mind went completely blank.

There was something cold in Dojin’s eyes as he looked at him—or perhaps it was a furious heat, burning just beneath the surface.

Jiho couldn’t tell. The uncertainty made him uneasy.

Clutch—

He grabbed the hem of Dojin’s shirt tightly. But his lips stayed sealed, refusing to open.

Dojin looked down at Jiho’s face—at his stubbornly closed mouth—and waited.

One minute. Two minutes. Three.

Time passed in silence. Jiho’s hesitation dragged on.

He wasn’t sure—wasn’t certain—if he could bring up the regression.

Dojin let out a hollow laugh, reading the conflict on Jiho’s face.

He’d realized it: that Jiho wasn’t saying anything because he hadn’t yet found enough assurance in him.

“…Haa.”

Truthfully, Dojin had expected something like this while waiting for Jiho to wake.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting—watching Jiho freeze up in front of him, unable to speak.

Would it have been better if he’d shown even the slightest hesitation? If he’d at least moved his lips like he was about to say something…?

‘Was I really that untrustworthy?’

The anxiety doubled, and it burned through Dojin’s patience.

Especially now that he knew Jiho could guide other espers as well, it was unbearable.

‘Is he not saying anything because he doesn’t trust me—or because he’s getting ready to leave?’

‘Does he think there’s no point in telling me the truth, since he’ll leave anyway?’

The irrational thoughts spiraled one after another, emotions rising thick and fast.

He wanted to grab Jiho and beg—Tell me the truth. Are you planning to leave me?

But if he gave in to that desperation, he was afraid Jiho really would leave.

No…

Gritting his teeth, Dojin gently set Jiho down beside him and stood up.

With his back turned, he spoke.

“I’ve known for a while that you were hiding something. I don’t know what kind of secret it is, but if it’s something you can’t tell me… then fine. You don’t have to.”

“……”

The words, recited like a script he’d prepared in advance, stacked like a wall between them.

Both of them could feel it—that dividing wall.

“I’m sorry if I made things hard for you. I’ll pretend not to notice from now on, so don’t worry.”

Even as he finished, Dojin didn’t look back at Jiho. He didn’t want him to see the anguish twisting his face.

And with that, Dojin began to walk away. Or, at least, he tried to.

“……!”

He would have, if Jiho hadn’t suddenly grabbed the hem of his shirt with both hands, his face stricken.

Freeze—

Dojin stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t just shake Jiho off and go.

But he still didn’t turn around.

“Mmph…!”

Jiho babbled desperately, his lips moving, but as long as Dojin wasn’t looking at him, he couldn’t communicate.

Baek Dojin. Turn around. Please look at me.

Jiho’s lips moved and moved—and then finally went still. His big eyes shimmered with rising sorrow.

And then—he remembered what the doctor had said.

There was nothing physically wrong with him. The reason he couldn’t speak was a matter of the heart.

Which meant that, if he could just find the courage—he could speak.

Jiho’s lips trembled again. Then, in a tiny voice, he mumbled:

“Ba… Dodin…”

Dojin flinched hard. He whipped around, shock etched across his face.

At last, their eyes met. Dojin cupped Jiho’s cheeks in his hands.

“What did you just say?”

“Mm…”

“You called me. You said my name. Right?”

Jiho stuck his lower lip out, clearly trying not to cry. Dojin lifted him easily into his arms and held their gazes together.

“Say it again.”

“Mmph…”

“Again.”

“Baek… mm… Dodin…”

This time, the words were clearer—though still tangled with tears. At last, the dam broke.

Hot tears poured down Jiho’s cheeks.

“Hic… Hnnng…!”

“Ah…”

The sight of Jiho crying finally jolted Dojin to his senses. He pulled Jiho close, pressing their bodies together and patting his back gently.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

“Hhng!”

“I’m sorry. I really am…”

Sobbing, Jiho began pounding weak fists against Dojin’s shoulder out of sheer frustration.

Of course, it hurt Jiho’s hands more than it hurt Dojin—which only made him pout harder and cry more.

“Hhnn… snff… hhic…”

“Does it hurt? Your hands? I’m sorry, I was wrong. Please don’t cry, okay?”

Dojin was sweating, trying everything to soothe him. The flood of emotion that had been boiling inside him, the fragile wall he’d built between them—it all melted away.

And finally, once Jiho began to calm down—

Sniffle…

He rubbed his swollen eyes with his sleeve and managed to whisper a second word.

“…hate…y-you.”

Dojin’s entire body went still with shock.