“…Why did you say no to the pair registration?”
Rion asked after a brief hesitation.
Back when the Center Director had thrown a fit and hurled the registration forms across the room, Rion had been ready to sign them without a second thought.
But even then—even while being scolded—Yu-won had firmly refused.
It wasn’t like Rion wanted to register as a pair just because he liked Yu-won. If anything, it was because they were already matched, and if they didn’t have some kind of official tie, things like this would just keep happening.
But Yu-won had rejected it so decisively, it made Rion wonder if the guy really disliked him that much. And yes, that reaction had stung—more than Rion cared to admit.
“…If we didn’t do something like that, you might run off again.”
“You won’t. You may not take care of yourself, but when it comes to work, you’re always sincere.”
It was a loaded statement, but Rion didn’t argue. He just gave a quiet nod.
“And it wasn’t because I don’t like you… that I said no to the pair registration.”
“Huh?”
Rion tilted his head, not quite believing his ears.
He doesn’t dislike me? He didn’t think Yu-won would say it to his face, but he’d been pretty sure the guy couldn’t stand him.
“Then why did you shut it down so fast?”
“Because I didn’t want us to become a pair that way. Even if we do end up registering, it should be because you want to. If it’s something you’re being pushed into, then it doesn’t mean anything.”
Yu-won spoke in his usual calm tone.
And it was true—he’d rejected the registration form because Rion had looked pale as a ghost while filling it out.
“No. I won’t cancel it.”
That wasn’t conviction. That was desperation.
When Yu-won had first heard that Rion woke up in the hospital and immediately demanded to cancel their match, he hadn’t exactly been fine with it—but he respected Rion’s choice.
But now? He didn’t want to be someone’s obligation.
“If you ever really want it—if you actually think you’d be okay being my pair—then I’ll sign it, too.”
“…”
Rion stared at him, a bit stunned.
For someone who always seemed to piss him off with annoying remarks, Yu-won had clearly been thinking things through deeply.
Maybe he’d judged him too quickly.
Maybe he’d been clinging to a bad first impression this whole time.
“…Alright. Thanks.”
Still, after all the bickering, it wasn’t easy to turn things around right away. As Rion was struggling to figure out how to continue the conversation, Yu-won spoke first.
“We should set clear rules for guiding.”
“Yeah. I thought I could handle it since I’ve been managing this long without—but I guess that was too naive.”
“Twice a week. Even if you hate it, you need to get guiding at least twice a week.”
Yu-won said it seriously, and Rion nodded in agreement.
“Alright. Text me. Ah—”
That’s when he remembered.
He’d blocked Yu-won.
Grimacing a little, Rion pulled out his phone, opened his messenger app, and removed Yu-won from the block list.
He hadn’t blocked him because of anything in particular. If it were something urgent, they’d call. For basic updates, they usually used text.
Still, he’d felt like he needed the boundary.
But now it just felt awkward, so he gave a sheepish smile and set his phone down.
“Sorry about that. Just needed to check something real quick.”
“It’s fine. But when you go into a Gate, don’t try to handle everything by yourself. If you’re even a little off, say something.”
Yu-won recalled how Rion had collapsed inside the Gate.
Just thinking about it made his hands go cold. The memory was that awful.
Even with the guiding he’d given in the field, Rion had been in bad shape the whole time.
“I know guiding inside a Gate has its limits. Even though I guided you, you were clearly unwell the whole time.”
The guiding had put out the worst of the fire, but Rion had still been far from okay.
It had taken a full week just to clear that Gate.
Even after getting a dose of guiding, Rion had only recovered enough to keep going temporarily. His stamina had been wrecked.
“Got it. I promise. I hate causing trouble for others inside a Gate.”
Rion knew. He knew that his party members were always relying on him—that they were looking to him.
And that’s why he’d always pushed himself.
He wasn’t necessarily the most experienced or the most senior Esper, but S-rank Espers were rare. And that meant the weight of responsibility was always on his shoulders.
“This whole thing was my fault. I’m the one who ran away. I’m the one who screwed up. I’m sorry I dragged you into it and made you get scolded, too.”
“…As long as it doesn’t happen again, that’s enough for me.”
The words were a bit sharp, but Rion still felt oddly moved.
Maybe things could get better between them.
It was just a small hope, but Rion decided to tuck away the little sting in his heart and keep talking.
“Yeah. I’ll make sure it never happens again. I don’t even know why I dragged this out for so long. It was such a simple fix.”
Sure, this hadn’t come about under the best of circumstances—but now that it had, maybe he could let go of all that past tension and start over.
As a senior, he should be the bigger person.
Rion smiled wide at the thought.
His face was still pale, but a lively smile lit it up.
Yu-won flinched slightly, then nodded.
“While we’re at it, you should get a health check. I looked at your records—the last one was two years ago.”
“When did you even check that? I’ve been busy, and I was planning on getting one in April, but when you joined the Center, I canceled and never rescheduled.”
“Then this is a good chance. And you should take tomorrow to really rest. I know it’s technically a punishment, but I think the Center Director wanted you to use it to cool your head.”
Rion nodded.
He knew better than anyone that the Director had only gotten that angry because he cared.
“You’re benched until tomorrow, too, right? What are you going to do?”
“…I haven’t thought about it.”
“Hmm, then how about…”
Now was the time to open the door—strike while the iron was warm.
Rion’s eyes lit up.
“How about we grab lunch tomorrow? Might as well spend the time together, seeing as we both got grounded.”
It wasn’t a happy reason, but it might be the perfect excuse to talk more—to clear the air a bit.
Sure, if Yu-won started getting snarky again, Rion wasn’t sure he could keep it together.
But he had to. Yu-won was still a newbie, barely 20, fresh into the Center.
Rion had to be the adult.
And honestly, at this point, he was probably starting to build immunity to that irritating tone anyway.
If you can’t avoid it, enjoy it—right?
“Tomorrow… yeah. I don’t have anything else going on.”
“My treat.”
“…Hyung, you just got a three-month pay cut. I can pay.”
Yu-won’s annoying voice was back. Rion shot him a sharp glare.
“Don’t make it sound like I’m the only one who got docked. You think I’d feel good letting you pay?”
He already knew Yu-won came from money—it wasn’t like the guy flaunted it, but it was obvious.
Still, comments like that made it hard to tell if he should thank him for being considerate or scold him for being clueless.
“And even with the pay cut, I still make more than your starting salary, I bet. I am the poster boy for Korean S-rank Espers, you know.”
To lighten the mood, Rion flashed a V-sign under his chin, striking a silly pose.
And, well, he wasn’t wrong.
He might be young compared to other veterans, but as one of the very few registered S-rank Espers in the Association—and the Center’s pride—he was treated accordingly.
“Anyway, be out front by 1 PM tomorrow. I’ll treat you to some good beef. You need to replenish, too.”
Rion smiled brightly.
Yu-won, expression as stoic as always, simply nodded.
And that day, Rion left with a quiet, budding hope— A hope that maybe, just maybe, he could rebuild things with Yu-won.
And for their lunch the next day, he went to bed fully prepared to show up as the cool, dependable senior.
But, as with everything involving Yu-won—
Nothing ever went the way Rion hoped.
