DPGR 60

Step— Step—

The sound of footsteps echoed softly through the Esper Wing hallway.

They belonged to Dojin.

He had made it about halfway down the corridor when a flicker of confusion crossed his face, and his pace gradually slowed.

‘This place…?’

It was familiar. Of course it was—he’d walked this hallway countless times over the years.

But now, it felt strangely foreign. A small frown tugged at Dojin’s brow.

‘Why am I here?’

He stopped.

He’d been slowing down bit by bit, and finally came to a halt in the middle of the hallway.

“Captain?”

From the far end, Kijoon spotted him and came running.

“Are you heading to the Guide Wing?”

He gestured at Dojin’s hand as he spoke. Only then did Dojin notice the paper bag he was holding.

It bore the logo of a famous bakery. He hated sweets—loathed them, even. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall why he’d be carrying pastries.

“You’re going to see that guide from Guide Team 1, right?”

Me? Dojin raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, the guide’s name was… Jio? Jihae? No, that’s not it…”

“Oh. Right. Guide Seo Jiho.”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

Dojin nodded absently as Kijoon spoke.

But in the back of his mind, an odd sense of déjà vu stirred.

‘Why do I feel so out of it?’

His thoughts felt sluggish, enough for him to notice the dullness. He didn’t know why he was here, or where the paper bag had come from.

‘I think… I’ve had a dream like this before.’

That sudden thought snapped him back to awareness.

‘Wait. A dream? This is a dream?’

And just like that, the haze clouding his mind began to clear.

Kijoon, oblivious to the shift, kept talking.

“Captain? You look really pale. You must’ve overdone it—go get some guiding, seriously.”

“Huh? Oh… yeah.”

“I’ll keep an eye on Yulchan, so don’t worry about him.”

Kijoon smiled, but there was a faint shadow in his expression, unlike his usual carefree demeanor.

He was trying to seem upbeat, but Dojin could see through it.

‘Yulchan… Don’t tell me…’

Just then, Kijoon’s watch beeped.

He flinched and checked it, then glanced at Dojin’s wrist.

“You still haven’t gotten that fixed?”

“…Huh?”

“Your watch. It broke back at the dungeon, remember?”

“Ah…”

“Well, whatever. It’s your rest period, so as long as you fix it before it’s over, it’s fine. I doubt we’ll be assigned to this dungeon anyway.”

Kijoon scrolled down the watch screen. Dojin peeked at it.

A dungeon alert—

[… A-class, supermassive gate …]

Only a fragment of text was visible due to the reflection angle, which was frustrating.

Dojin clicked his tongue inwardly and tried to reach for the watch.

The last time he’d had a dream like this, its contents had come true. This one probably would too.

Now that he knew the dungeon’s level, he needed to find out where it would open, and what day, what year it was.

But—

“……!”

No matter how hard he tried, his body wouldn’t move—like something had latched on and held him in place.

He grimaced in frustration.

“Dungeon?”

His mouth moved on its own.

“Yeah. Since Yulchan’s still bedridden, Beta Team will probably handle it, right?”

“…Right.”

“Well, Yulchan’ll be okay. There’s always rehab.”

“……”

So it was shortly after Yulchan’s leg injury.

As Dojin tried to piece together the situation, his body patted Kijoon’s shoulder and began to walk again.

Past the familiar Esper Wing corridor, toward the Guide Wing.

‘What the hell is going on?’

Dojin’s body was moving independently of his will, and he focused all his senses to absorb as much information as possible.

This dream was clearly tied to the future. There had to be something useful in it.

He stopped in front of a guiding room.

Rolling his eyes downward, he read the nameplate.

In rigid block letters, it displayed Jiho’s name and affiliation.

Unpaired Guide Team 1.

Dojin silently repeated the team name, focusing his mind.

Meanwhile, his body calmly knocked on the door.

Knock knock knock—

As expected, there was no reply.

Unfazed, his body waited for about three seconds, then quietly opened the door.

Inside, Jiho lay on a bed, listless.

If not for the slow rise and fall of his chest, it would’ve been hard to tell he was even alive.

Ah…

The room was a mess. Dojin’s eyes instinctively scanned the table.

It was piled with trash—instant noodle cups and old triangle kimbap wrappers.

Dojin held back a sigh.

A lump of emotion rose in his throat, threatening to choke him.

“Guide Jiho.”

His body seemed to feel the same, voice dropping as he softly called Jiho’s name.

The guide didn’t even react to someone entering his room. His eyelids, which had been shut tight, finally fluttered open.

Rustle—

Jiho slowly pushed himself up.

His dry, caramel-colored eyes dropped toward Dojin’s feet.

Pale skin, a face void of any expression.

Thinner cheeks than Dojin remembered, lips cracked and scabbed.

Jiho looked like someone whose soul had gone missing.

Faced with a version of Jiho completely different from the one he knew, Dojin swallowed down a surge of anger.

Are you okay? Have you been eating properly? Are you hurt anywhere? Come with me.

There were so many things he wanted to say—wanted to shout, even—but trapped inside his dream-body, all Dojin could do was watch helplessly.

Step— Step—

His body moved. He approached Jiho and held out the paper bag.

Jiho hesitated, not taking it.

Dojin took Jiho’s hand, gently pressing the paper bag into it, then asked, hesitantly,

“Have you… been struggling?”

“……”

“Are you… eating well?”

“……”

“Is there still nothing I can help you with?”

They were all questions Dojin desperately wanted to ask.

Time might change, but a person’s core remained the same—he found comfort in that.

He focused on Jiho’s lips, thinking surely Jiho would meet his eyes and start talking, explaining his condition like he always did.

But—

“……”

“……”

The Jiho in front of him was different. He kept staring into empty space, lifeless eyes dim with silence.

No babbling, no flicker of speech.

As if he’d expected that, Dojin’s body looked at Jiho quietly for a moment, then spoke again, even softer than before.

“If you ever need anything… call me.”

At that, Jiho finally looked up. Their gazes met in the space between them.

For the first time, those lifeless eyes responded.

…A slight shake of the head.

A quiet gesture saying no—that he was fine, that he didn’t need anything.

Dojin’s body hovered there, then turned, as if to leave.

Or tried to.

Tap—

A cold hand caught his.

“……!”

Startled, Dojin turned back.

Jiho was looking up at him, eyes contorted as if he were about to cry.

And in those eyes, Dojin saw it—deep, aching loneliness.

Realizing what he’d done, Jiho let go in a hurry and hunched his shoulders, embarrassed.

But Dojin knew. He knew Jiho didn’t actually like being alone.

That he craved affection.

And sure enough—

Jiho gripped the hem of his own shirt, then moved his lips for the first time.

—Stay… for guiding.

As if he needed an excuse—any excuse—to keep someone by his side.

Dojin’s body hesitated, just about to answer, when—

His vision twisted.

Then came the gut-wrenching sensation of consciousness plummeting—and darkness.

A total blackout.

“—Haaah…!”

Dojin shot upright, gasping for breath as he woke.

His whole body was drenched in cold sweat.

‘A dream… It really was a dream…’

No one had been gravely injured this time, unlike before, and yet Dojin’s heart was pounding even harder, like it had taken a brutal hit.

“Haah… ha…”

Still catching his breath, he glanced to the side.

Right there, asleep beside him, was Jiho—breathing softly in his sleep.

Jiho…

He looked tired, yes, but he wasn’t sunken or deathly pale like the Jiho in the dream.

Lying on his side, cheek pressed to the pillow, he had a slight roundness to his face.

Dojin stared at him, over and over again, heart aching—and finally couldn’t hold back. He pulled Jiho into his arms.

What he couldn’t do for the Jiho in the dream, he would do for the real one now.

“Mm…?”

Half-asleep and caught in Dojin’s tight embrace, Jiho wriggled and pushed against him in confusion.

But Dojin only cupped his face and began planting soft kisses all over it.

So he wouldn’t feel lonely. So he wouldn’t get hurt again.

He was going to protect his guide. Cherish him.

Every scrap of affection he had—he’d gather it all and pour it into him.

“Uuuugh!”

Awake now and annoyed, Jiho whined and started smacking Dojin’s shoulder in protest.

But Dojin couldn’t bring himself to let go.

Not until Jiho had hit him a few more times and grumbled from the pain did Dojin finally begin to collect himself—thinking of how lonely Jiho must have been, and how he’d never let that happen again.