Joo-hyun swallowed a sigh and bent down to lift the man who was lying on the ground. The man's face was soaked with tears, and he was trembling so much that his teeth chattered.
"Please, spare me..."
"You saw nothing, got it?"
The man nodded vigorously. For a moment, the light from the lighthouse flickered through the gap between the containers.
"Try to say a word anywhere, and I'll hunt you down and kill you."
Without waiting for a reply, Joo-hyun struck the man's face, knocking him unconscious, and tossed him back to the ground.
A mix of unease about not killing the witness and a peculiar sense of relief surged within him. It was a strange feeling, but not entirely unpleasant.
"Is it done?"
"Yes... but I'm still not over it."
Beom-gyu pointed to the corpse of the man who had died without even closing his eyes.
There was no way to bring the dead back to life. At the time, Joo-hyun had acted on what he believed was the best course of action, so he had no intention of apologising. Beom-gyu, who had at least saved one person and had a mission to complete, seemed not to dwell on it any longer.
Joo-hyun tied the unconscious man's hands behind his back and approached the nearest container.
With a creak, he opened the stiff door to reveal a stack of wooden boxes filled with illegal guiding drugs.
"There are so many. Do we just blow them all up?"
"Yes, but hold on a second."
Joo-hyun, who had been carrying a backpack to disguise himself as a regular student, began putting the drugs into it.
"What are you doing?"
"These are for Chae-kyung hyung."
Chae-kyung, addicted to guiding drugs, suffered immensely during withdrawal symptoms. Regular guiding would help, but since that wasn't an option, reducing his pain was the best they could do.
Because Block C lacked guides, the reliance on guiding drugs was significantly higher than for typical espers. Though Beom-gyu, not yet used to this, looked uncomfortable, he knew how much Chae-kyung suffered and didn't stop Joo-hyun.
Compared to the process, the mission itself ended surprisingly easily. With a mere gesture from Beom-gyu, everything inside the container exploded.
The two checked even the empty containers thoroughly before leaving the unconscious man behind and departing the harbour. They walked in silence through the darkened streets. Beom-gyu seemed deep in thought, while Joo-hyun gripped the gun in his pocket tightly, staying alert.
"Was that what you meant when you said Bom-i noona and Seung-cheol hyung would hit me?"
Beom-gyu's voice lacked its usual strength. His red eyes glinted faintly as they stayed fixed on the ground.
"Do they take on missions like this too? ...Killing people and all?"
Joo-hyun didn't answer, but silence sometimes speaks volumes. The can kicked by Beom-gyu clattered noisily away.
"Of course, you're not sad. You kill every day; why would one more death make you cry?"
"Do you think we do this because we want to?"
The words, harsher than expected, echoed through the quiet harbour. Beom-gyu, a few steps ahead, turned back to face Joo-hyun, who had stopped.
"You're not supposed to kill someone so easily. We shouldn't be doing this. They shouldn't make us do this."
Beom-gyu was crying. His eyes were red, and tears streamed down his cheeks as he bit his lip.
The anger that had flared up dissipated instantly upon seeing Beom-gyu's pitiful face. The ghost that always hung over Joo-hyun's shoulder felt especially heavy today. Beom-gyu sniffled, wiping his tears with his sleeve, and spoke in a shaky voice.
"Are you sad about Hana noona's death?"
"...Yes."
"Then why don't you cry?"
The salty sea air brushed Joo-hyun's nose. He wanted to comfort Beom-gyu but didn't know how.
"Is crying that important?"
"Of course. When you're happy, you smile; when you're sad, you cry. How can you call it living if you don't do the obvious things?"
The fact that the espers in Block C didn't express their sorrow over Hana's death was a significant issue for Beom-gyu.
Joo-hyun tried to remember the last time he cried uncontrollably over someone's death. He delved into his past but couldn't recall shedding tears.
Even before becoming a runaway esper, Joo-hyun hadn't lived a life where expressing emotions through laughter or tears was common, so he couldn't fully grasp Beom-gyu's sentiments.
As a runaway esper, leaving Block C was impossible. Death was the only escape, and he would have to live in grey walls for the rest of his life. Beom-gyu would eventually realise the harsh reality and stop crying.
But Beom-gyu had only been living as a runaway esper for six months, and his tears hadn't dried yet.
The salty sea breeze gently caressed the cheeks of the two sitting side by side on the large tetrapod. Beom-gyu, who had mostly stopped crying, rubbed his sore eyes and sniffled.
"Did you ask why I don't cry?"
Startled by the sudden question, Beom-gyu looked at Joo-hyun with his swollen eyes. Joo-hyun was staring somewhere deep in the pitch-black sea.
"...Maybe it's because I've already thought about everyone dying."
In a simple hoodie, he looked like an ordinary person, not a runaway esper. Just a tired, slightly depressed regular person. If not for his red eyes reflecting the lighthouse light, anyone would have thought so.
Beom-gyu had always felt that there was something dangerous about the aura surrounding Joo-hyun, not just his clothes, but not now. Perhaps it was because his expression was gentler than usual.
"I've been in Block C for 11 years. Do you know how many people have died in that time?"
Beom-gyu shook his head. Joo-hyun's voice held an unfamiliar softness.
"I don't know either. There are too many to count."
"That many?"
"Yes. In the end, everyone will die. Whether it's from running out of control, failing a mission, a chocker malfunctioning, or having a night so scary that the sunrise feels unbearable."
Beom-gyu wanted to ask if Joo-hyun had ever had such a night, but he swallowed the question and kept silent. This was the first time Joo-hyun, usually indifferent, had opened up like this. He didn't want to ruin the moment with unnecessary questions.
"Thinking this way isn't pessimistic. It's just that everything is predictable."
"Predictable?"
"Yes. How do you feel when something you expected happens?"
"...I knew this would happen?"
Finally, Beom-gyu understood the mindset of Joo-hyun and the other sunbaes. Hana's death was something they had already anticipated, so they weren't shocked or moved to tears when it happened.
The sorrow was felt the moment they foresaw her death and the subsequent loss.
It wasn't just Joo-hyun. Chae-kyung, Bom-i, Se-hwa, and Seung-cheol – all of them had thought about, anticipated, and mentally prepared for each other's deaths, so they wouldn't be overwhelmed by the grief when it happened. With so many instances, the mind naturally gravitated that way.
Becoming overly accustomed to the death of comrades, he finally understood what that meant. The tears he had managed to stop began to flow again. Beom-gyu buried his face in his hands and cried like a child.
Joo-hyun didn't pat his back or shoulder but didn't leave, despite the noise. It was his way of providing comfort.
Beom-gyu wondered if Joo-hyun had ever properly cried. During his 11 years in that harsh place, had anyone comforted him?
The black sea waters swayed, and the lighthouse light spun once more.
"Even so, I hope you'll cry when I die."
They had probably already anticipated Beom-gyu's death. Would they just say, "I knew it," and forget about him?
"I don't expect my death to be hugely significant, but since we've shared time together, I think I deserve at least some tears."
Beom-gyu had witnessed the deaths of comrades several times as an esper. It was always sad, but after crying like his heart would break at their funerals, he felt a bit lighter. Smiling when happy and crying when sad – there's a reason everyone worldwide, despite language barriers, behaves this way.
Listening quietly, Joo-hyun chuckled. Still staring at the sea, his side profile looked kind, and Beom-gyu felt his impression of Joo-hyun shift slightly.
"If that's what you want, I'll cry for you."
"Promise. Don't forget."
"But you also have to promise to cry like a child whenever someone dies."
"I didn't cry like a child!"
Thinking Joo-hyun was teasing him, Beom-gyu saw that his eyes were deadly serious. Hesitating for a moment, he wiped his eyes with his sleeve and answered.
"It's not something you can promise. I'll keep doing it anyway."
Joo-hyun, staring silently, suddenly stood up and ruffled Beom-gyu's hair. If it had been Seung-cheol, he would have pushed the hand away, but since this was Joo-hyun's first such gesture, Beom-gyu protested loudly without actually pushing him away.
"Let's go back now."
With his hood up, Joo-hyun's expression was hidden. Beom-gyu, sniffing one last time, got up to follow. The tranquil sea seemed to bid them a quiet farewell, unsure when they'd return.
* * *
"Hyung, we finished the mission quicker than we thought, right?"
Beom-gyu asked as they were almost out of the harbour. Joo-hyun, still tense and scanning their surroundings, nodded.
"Do you want to do something fun before we go?"
Joo-hyun turned his head so quickly his neck might have stiffened, wearing an expression of disbelief.