Ah…… I shouldn’t have let that thought cross my mind.
He could feel it vividly—the way his body, which had only just calmed down, suddenly ignited again. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately hoping Cha Jae-woo wasn’t looking at his face.
“……”
No response came from Cha Jae-woo. As the silence stretched on, he opened his eyes and lifted his head, finding Cha Jae-woo deep in thought.
“……Maybe.”
Anyone would find it impossible to tear their gaze away from Cha Jae-woo right now. He could only stare blankly at Cha Jae-woo, who spoke slowly after a moment’s consideration. Even when Cha Jae-woo noticed his persistent gaze and faltered slightly, he couldn’t bring himself to look away.
Cha Jae-woo felt strangely unfamiliar. It was as if he wasn’t the same person he used to know. The fact that it was Cha Jae-woo—the one contemplating his words so seriously—only made it more surreal.
Even before Cha Jae-woo had realized his own feelings, he hadn’t entirely brushed aside his words. But now, the difference was undeniable.
Maybe it wasn’t just that Cha Jae-woo had changed. Maybe the way he saw him had changed too—believing vaguely before, and now, seeing it for certain.
In the end, there was no time to steady the heart racing wildly in his chest.
“……”
It still didn’t feel real. Why had Cha Jae-woo come to like him? Of course, it must have been because of the guiding. Cha Jae-woo probably thought the same too. That’s why he had put in so much effort to continue receiving it.
But now, he said it was fine even without the guiding. And yet, he still lingered around him, stubbornly staying close, not to possess him, but simply to remain by his side. That had only been a short while ago.
It made no sense. Just what exactly did he see in him?
The deeper he dug, the more he became entangled in a web of contradictory thoughts, each question spawning another.
He shook his head briskly, trying to erase the endless string of question marks. If he let himself go any further, he might end up demanding Cha Jae-woo explain exactly why he liked him—excluding the guiding.
That would be foolish. What if Cha Jae-woo couldn’t come up with an answer right away? Surely, it was simply because, while receiving guiding and spending time together, he had gradually come to like him.
Hadn’t he convinced himself of that once before? That because he provided special guiding, Cha Jae-woo naturally came to see him as special too.
“Are you sure?”
Feigning casualness, as if none of these foolish thoughts had crossed his mind, he asked the question. Cha Jae-woo, after carefully rereading the instructions on the back of the ramen packet, shook his head.
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
Of course not.
The answer was obvious if he thought about it even a little. There was the housekeeper, after all. She would never have let Cha Jae-woo eat something like ramen. Maybe he had grown up eating only organic foods all his life.
Chairman Cha Seong-ju hadn’t exactly cherished Cha Jae-woo, but at least he hadn’t abandoned him completely. That was something to be grateful for. Even if, in the end, it was only because he found him useful…
Enough. What did it matter what someone who was already dead had thought?
At least it was fortunate that, though perhaps lonely at times, Cha Jae-woo hadn’t lived a particularly harsh life. After all, nothing was more painful for an Esper than living without a Guide.
“Then it’s your first ramen ever.”
Among the many thoughts billowing up in his mind, he chose to voice the silliest and most solemn one. Firsts were always meaningful, after all—even if it was something as trivial as eating ramen.
But then again, wasn’t this also the first meal he was having at his house? Was ramen really good enough for that? He chuckled internally at how many pointless thoughts a single packet of ramen could provoke.
“Yeah.”
The endless stream of thoughts vanished at once, swept away by Cha Jae-woo’s simple, earnest reply.
The corners of his lips curved upward without him realizing. He felt a sudden surge of pride. He wanted to boast to the whole world that Cha Jae-woo was this kind, even if no one else would understand.
Meanwhile, Cha Jae-woo seemed to have truly made up his mind to cook it himself. He rummaged through the cupboard and pulled out a pot from the very back of the highest shelf—a pot even he hadn’t found yet—and started filling it with water.
No wonder he hadn’t seen it. It had been way up there.
It was obvious without even checking who had stashed it up there. It had to be Kim Geon-ung. As soon as that annoying face floated into his mind, his expression twisted in irritation.
“Why? Is something wrong?”
Cha Jae-woo, quick as ever, noticed and asked. Meanwhile, the pot in Cha Jae-woo’s hands was filled with just the right amount of water, even by the standards of someone like him who had boiled ramen countless times.
“No, it’s not because of you, Cha Jae-woo. I just thought of Kim Geon-ung.”
Seriously, that bastard had a real talent for getting under people’s skin. Always ready to scold someone for not eating properly, yet he’d go and hide the cooking pots out of spite.
“The amount of water is perfect. You can just put it directly on the stove now…”
Pushing aside the thought that he should sock Kim Geon-ung the next time they met, he gestured toward the stove. He had assumed Cha Jae-woo was just standing there, hesitating over whether the water was enough.
“Uh…”
But that wasn’t it. He could sense it through Cha Jae-woo’s resonance. Since he had gained the ability to read Cha Jae-woo’s emotions, he had never once felt anything like this—an unpleasantness that slowly seeped into the air.
Why now, all of a sudden? It was natural for people to feel irritation now and then, but the timing was completely out of the blue. As he stood there, mouth agape in confusion, Cha Jae-woo’s resonance quickly calmed.
“Yeah.”
The response was so mild that he almost thought he had imagined it. But it wasn’t an illusion. Fixing his eyes on Cha Jae-woo, he belatedly opened his mouth.
“What’s wrong?”
He couldn’t just let the emotion he had witnessed pass by.
Time to apply Survival Rule Number Two: Make Cha Jae-woo express his feelings honestly.
He could see Cha Jae-woo’s emotions, but not the thoughts that led to them. Technically, he could peek into those thoughts through contact, but it wasn’t like he would get a running commentary of everything Cha Jae-woo was thinking—and besides, he didn’t want to invade him like that.
So there was no choice but to hear it directly. And it had to be that way.
“What were you thinking about?”
“……Nothing much.”
Lie. He stared at him with disbelief written plainly on his face. Cha Jae-woo clamped his mouth shut and shrugged his shoulders—a clear sign of stifling a sigh.
“I can see it, you know. You were really annoyed just now.”
He pointed to his own eyes, spreading two fingers in a V-shape, making it clear he wasn’t going to let this slide. Since it was an undeniable fact, there was no reason to hide it. The fact that Cha Jae-woo actually let out a sigh he couldn’t suppress showed that it was hitting home.
Still, lying…? A sharp pang of hurt welled up. Lies were damaging in more ways than one. He knew better than anyone how easy it was to lose trust. Especially given that Cha Jae-woo had once shattered his trust to pieces—lying now was not a good look.
“……Just because you can see it doesn’t mean you know everything.”
The sharp feeling that had pricked him softened into sadness. Despite everything that had happened between them, he was trying his best to build a better relationship with Cha Jae-woo. Yet here he was, lying so easily, right at the start.
“You’re not doing anything you can’t tell me about… right?”
“Ah, no, it’s not like that…”
Seriously, Cha Jae-woo was a handful. He narrowed his eyes deliberately, glaring at him. It was clear that Cha Jae-woo was floundering.
Well, serves him right. Why do something you’d be embarrassed to admit?
The dejection that had briefly crept in was gone. Instead, an overwhelming desire to dig out the truth from Cha Jae-woo surged.
Letting little things slide over and over could someday lead to a situation where he couldn’t even trust what he saw with his own eyes.
The bond of trust he was trying to rebuild wasn’t based on the so-called imprint Cha Jae-woo had supposedly made on him—it was more like the imprint was just supporting evidence. The only reason he even gave the imprint idea any credibility was because Cha Jae-woo’s symptoms matched the descriptions in that book.
But honestly, only one researcher had ever studied imprinting, and there were barely any documented cases. There was no definitive proof that what they were experiencing was actually imprinting. It could just as easily be some other unknown illness afflicting Espers.
If it was another illness, that would be even more horrifying.
Anyway, the point was: There was always a chance he might start doubting Cha Jae-woo’s heart all over again. Maybe not now, but someday.
And that’s why Cha Jae-woo needed to be even more honest with him.
It wasn’t the imprint itself that would help banish seeds of doubt—it was Cha Jae-woo’s sincerity that would. Even without the imprint, it was Cha Jae-woo’s responsibility to make himself someone he could trust again.
“I just… got a little annoyed.”
“Annoyed?”
“……Because it means Kim Geon-ung has been coming to this house a lot.”
