Dirty Sweet Baby Chapter 95

“There you go, saying something playful again.”

“Why? A commemorative drink sounds nice. I’ll have one too.”

“You used to refuse no matter how much I offered.”

“That was then.”

“And now is different?”

“Of course it is…”

Cha Moogyul chuckled. Hearing his laughter in the silent living room made his heart flutter.

“Heeheon is truly the most difficult.”

“Me?”

“Everyone says you’re the easiest to understand, hyung… Absolute nonsense.”

“Isn’t that something you shouldn’t be saying…”

Heeheon lowered his gaze and lightly fiddled with Cha Moogyul’s arm wrapped around his waist. He traced the distinct veins on his forearm with his index finger and continued speaking.

“Cha Moogyul is the most difficult person in the world.”

“That’s why I’m telling you. Everything.”

Perhaps it tickled, because he suddenly grabbed Heeheon’s squirming hand. He interlocked their fingers, his thick knuckles digging deep between his fingers, restraining him.

“Without a single gap. Every inch.”

“…That’s true, but still. I have a lot of questions.”

“Hm, like what.”

Cha Moogyul’s hand was warm. His usually cool body temperature was now just right. He wondered if it was because they were sharing their warmth. As if to hurry him, he pressed his lips to his ear again. He heard a smooching sound as they made contact behind his ear.

“No, just, trivial things…”

“Trivial things like what.”

“Really trivial things.”

Ah… is it okay to say this?

Despite Cha Moogyul’s urging words, Heeheon hesitated and mumbled. At that, Cha Moogyul set his canines and lightly bit his earlobe. Startled, Heeheon flinched and ducked his head like a turtle.

It’s really nothing, haa…

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Color…?”

“See… I told you it was trivial.”

“Black.”

“How tall are you? You seem to have grown over the past five years.”

“189.7cm according to the mandatory awakening test results.”

“How long did you smoke before you quit?”

“About two years.”

“Then, um… what do you have me saved as in your phone?”

At that, Cha Moogyul let out a snicker. The sound of his laughter gradually grew louder, until he was practically chuckling for all to see. Pressing his lips to the ear he had been nibbling, he told him the answer.

“Baek Heeheon.”

“…”

“Should I change it, now.”

“…What are you going to change it to?”

“Is that a question too?”

“Yeah.”

“Check for yourself. Next time.”

Heeheon just nodded without answering. And he thought to himself, ‘I should change his contact name in my phone too…’

The conversation broke off for a moment. Feeling each other’s presence in the silence, Heeheon calmed his heart. On the borderline between consciousness and unconsciousness, there was something hazy. Heeheon opened his mouth without thinking.

“That…”

This time, it wasn’t a trivial question.

“About me. What should I say to my mother?”

He had said he would call again, and he intended to face her properly. Besides, his mother wasn’t his only worry. There was also the matter of Mister Kwon Il…

“When should I call her again… Ugh!”

But.

At that moment, a heavy weight suddenly dropped inside his heart with a thud.

“…!”

Heeheon’s eyes flew wide open in bewilderment. His chest, which had been heaving with shortness of breath, stopped for a moment.

‘What, what is this. It hurts.’

It felt as if the inside of his heart was splitting in two.

It was similar to when his core was depleted after exceeding its limit. Even though he wasn’t guiding, his core was crying out in severe pain, drying up completely.

A similar seizure had occurred a few days ago, but this time the reaction was even more intense. It felt as if his finely torn core would crumble into dust.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah-heok… ugh, it hurts.”

“It hurts?”

Heeheon scratched his forearm and shook his head. His once-red complexion had turned deathly pale. The pain was unbearable. It was to the point where he wanted to carve out his left chest where the core was located.

“Ah, th-that, my chest, again… my core.”

“What?”

Heeheon gasped for air and twitched. His body, which had fallen back onto the sofa, thrashed about.

“It, it feels like it’s going to break.”

“What the… fuck.”

Realizing the seriousness of the situation, Cha Moogyul swore and checked Heeheon’s complexion. Heeheon, whose breathing had completely given out, choked and squeezed out a sound.

“Infirmary… C-Center, call them.”

Maybe. Just in case. He had always felt a sense of anxiety.

The difference in rank.

An A-rank guide, Baek Heeheon, could not handle an S-rank esper, Cha Moogyul.

That was an unavoidable fact and truth. He had been preparing himself for a day like this to come, and at one point, he had even eagerly awaited it. But now, he could only feel resentful of the fate given to him. His chest felt like it was being torn apart. In a double sense.

Fallen leaves fluttered.

Faint, melting moonlight hid between the curtains and calmly illuminated the hospital room.

The single-person ward, thoroughly disinfected and managed without a single speck of dust, had a restrained coldness, and the air was heavy and damp. Only the sound of the second hand of the clock on the wall broke the silence.

Heeheon, leaning against the head of the bed, slowly caught his breath. His pale face and limp hands seemed to show his condition.

‘…Ha.’

His mind was a complete mess. The aura of Cha Moogyul, who was keeping watch by his side, was also unusual. A dark conflict was lodged in his eyes as he stared out the window, lost in deep thought. His firmly closed, dry lips were also extremely serious.

“Now.”

Heeheon spoke first.

“I guess I can’t be your dedicated guide anymore.”

Baek Heeheon had been urgently transferred to the Center’s central hospital ward, and after several tests, he was diagnosed with an abnormality in his core. He was even in a situation where he had to be hospitalized because more detailed tests were needed.

‘Even if it was fast, it was a result that was bound to happen someday.’

Perhaps right after his manifestation it would have been different, but once Cha Moogyul’s core fully matured, Heeheon could not guide him. In fact, he had been feeling it for a while. That guiding was becoming more and more difficult.

The rate of depletion had also become much faster, he had to squeeze out all his strength every time he guided, and eventually, it had clearly put a strain on his core, reaching a dangerous level.

‘I just wanted to pretend I didn’t know…’

Well, Cha Moogyul had now grown into an esper who could wield large-scale powers enough to cover the entire 3rd District. There was no way that Heeheon, who was merely an A-rank guide, could nonchalantly keep up. Whether it was because of his single-minded determination to stay by his side, or because of his desire to achieve something, he had repeatedly exerted guiding beyond his limits and had collapsed belatedly.

Baek Heeheon could no longer be Cha Moogyul’s guide.

‘Why now of all times?’

It wasn’t that he didn’t have such thoughts. The time given to Heeheon was too short. Deplorably short. At first, he had certainly wished for Cha Moogyul to grow up and ascend to a place out of reach as soon as possible, but now, he wished he would slow his steps just a little and stay by Heeheon’s side.

He was resentful of him for being unreachable even when he tried to hold on. Just when he thought Cha Moogyul had finally understood a sliver of his heart, the situation twisting again was truly baffling and bleak.

‘Still, it’s a relief.’

He was able to save people safely.

The fact that he had done his part and finished at the scene in the 3rd Residential District was a comfort. Though he hadn’t known that day would be his last.

He heard the sound of leaves blown by the wind brushing against the window. The loneliness of the passing autumn night and the heavy atmosphere of the hospital room seeped into Heeheon’s heart as a deep loneliness and regret. It was a situation difficult to express in words, but he couldn’t just remain silent.

“Hoo… Thank you for everything until now. I mean that sincerely.”

The lights of the medical equipment flickered in the dark hospital room. A bitter taste lingered in his mouth. Cha Moogyul stared at Heeheon, who was smiling emptily, with sharp eyes. As if to reprimand the gloomy Heeheon, he drew a line in a displeased tone.

“What are you trying to end on your own terms?”

It was a low growl, like a beast.

He seemed genuinely enraged. Was he displeased with the unexpected situation that wasn’t going his way? He didn’t know. Cha Moogyul roughly reached out one hand and grabbed Heeheon’s chin, lifting it.

“The kind of thing you’re thinking won’t happen.”

“What…?”

“You won’t be dismissed. That matter was settled a long time ago.”

His body temperature was so cool it felt cold, and the words he spat out sounded cruelly cold.

“My dedicated guide.”

Heeheon furrowed his brow in a daze. It was an irrational measure, unlike Cha Moogyul. It was a self-evident truth that the difference in rank between an esper and a guide could not be overcome. There was no way he didn’t know what the aftermath of exceeding the core’s limit was.

An esper would go berserk, unleash their powers, and die, while a guide, though not going berserk, would have their core shatter and die.

“What are you talking about…? Of course I’ll have to quit. As you can see, I can’t guide you anymore.”

“I don’t care.”

“Huh? How can you not care? I’m telling you guiding is impossible.”

No, right. He could do it. He could, but it would be useless. It would be like a crow-tit trying to follow a stork, a level that fell far short.

“I can’t completely resolve your imbalance. If it keeps piling up, you’ll eventually go berserk…”

“Right. I suppose it’s time you knew.”

Cha Moogyul cut off Heeheon’s bewildered words in the middle.

Time I knew?

What in the world. What was he talking about?

“A new project.”