“Cold water, huh…?”
After all that fuss about losing consciousness or whatever, now he was muttering shyly as if embarrassed by how prepared everything was. Hearing that mumble, Han Ju-oh set down the showerhead.
“I’m leaving it here in case you get up and fall over or something.”
He placed the showerhead where Seo-ha could easily reach it, and even went so far as to prepare shampoo, body wash, and everything else he might need. But instead of leaving, he took out a towel and stood awkwardly nearby.
“What are you doing?”
Seo-ha looked up at him, not even thinking about picking up the showerhead, and asked.
“In case you fall into the tub, I’ll pull you out.”
“What do you even see me as? Seriously.”
“Baek Seo-ha.”
“……”
Being treated like a kid would’ve been irritating enough, but being seen as Baek Seo-ha and still assumed to be someone who’d fall in the bathtub—yeah, that stung. The gratitude he felt just moments ago started to fade, but it didn’t last long. Suddenly remembering something, Seo-ha raised both arms above his head.
“Ju-oh!”
And on top of that, he called out loudly, which made Han Ju-oh frown. He was already watching Seo-ha, but hearing his name shouted like that in the echoey bathroom startled him a bit.
“You don’t have to yell. I can hear you just fine.”
Ju-oh pushed back his wet hair and answered, giving him a look that clearly said, What the hell was that for? Seo-ha gestured toward the showerhead with his eyes.
“Wash my hair for me.”
“…You want me to bathe you?”
“Yeah.”
“You said you could do it yourself.”
“I changed my mind. Ju-oh, look at my wrist.”
Seo-ha gently cradled his left wrist with his right hand.
“What if water gets into the watch? This is the first time a number like this has shown up—what if it disappears while I’m washing?”
Even though he’d already locked the value on the display, he was terrified the water might somehow mess it up.
“I have to cherish this like a treasure.”
With an incredibly earnest gaze, Seo-ha pleaded. The way he acted like even a single drop of water would ruin everything made it clear he had no intention of washing himself. And he wasn’t joking in the slightest.
“Where the hell did this lunatic come from…”
Ju-oh couldn’t help but mutter through clenched teeth, but Seo-ha stubbornly kept guarding his left wrist.
“You don’t get it. Whether I’m sleeping, waking up, eating, or walking around, I only ever see a 3% reading. You can’t possibly understand what that feels like.”
“You guide people in your sleep, or what?”
Despite brushing off Seo-ha’s words, Han Ju-oh picked up the showerhead.
“Lean your head this way.”
Told to turn his body and tilt his head back, Seo-ha quickly adjusted his position. But when Ju-oh didn’t immediately move, he looked up in confusion—then suddenly realized how he was sitting.
His legs were folded and slightly spread, hunched over in the cramped bathtub. It was an awkward pose. Earlier, when Ju-oh had picked him up, he’d been too shocked to react and had instinctively tightened his lower body. But now, relaxed, he could feel something leaking out.
He spotted a cloudy trail drifting in the water and squeezed his eyes shut.
“I’m embarrassed, so I’ll keep my eyes closed. I think I’ll feel better if I just hold out for a bit, so don’t worry about me—just do your thing. I’m fine, Ju-oh!”
“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”
He should’ve been the one telling Seo-ha to close his eyes and leave the rest to him—but somehow, the roles had flipped.
Seo-ha had boldly chosen embarrassment over endangering his precious watch. Han Ju-oh could only chuckle helplessly.
“Ju-oh. You’re the one who made my hair all greasy, so now you’d better make it soft again. And when you wash my body, don’t use your hands—”
Shhhhhhh!
A sudden burst of water to Seo-ha’s head cut him off mid-sentence, his echoing voice vanishing from the bathroom.
***
“Easy… careful…”
Walking down the guild hallway, Seo-ha cradled his watch like a sacred relic and moved incredibly slowly. He was so light-footed, worried a strong vibration might erase the number, that Ju-oh—following behind—couldn’t hide how twisted his expression had become.
“Baek Seo-ha. Don’t you think this is a bit much?”
“If it were you, would you be ‘a bit much’? Do you even know how precious this number is to me?”
Seo-ha shamelessly defended his fussiness.
“Dig up the whole damn planet—you won’t find a number like this again.”
“Fine, I get it. But could you stop already? Don’t you care about your body at all?”
Ju-oh looked at Seo-ha’s waist as he spoke. Underneath the clothes, it wasn’t visible now—but once those were off, his skin would be marked with sensitive, flushed patches.
Not just his waist—his whole body probably felt like it had been hit by a truck, but Seo-ha was too focused on the watch to care, which made it all the more frustrating for Han Ju-oh.
“Then you worry about my body. I’m already overwhelmed just trying to protect this.”
Seo-ha kept his eyes locked on the watch as he continued walking. Just like Ju-oh said, his body felt heavy, as if he’d been thoroughly beaten.
He’d endured in a position that he wasn’t used to in the first place, and with how much he’d been stretched open, the aftereffects weren’t minor. A dull ache hit with every step, and his waist felt like it was about to snap.
He knew. But so what?
The body could heal with time—but the number on the watch wouldn’t last. Who knew when it might show up again… or if it ever would?
Seo-ha had faced disappointment so many times that it had turned him into a cynic. Standing still now, staring down at the watch, he suddenly spoke.
“I… ahem.”
His voice cracked from trying to sound serious all of a sudden, so he quickly cleared his throat.
“I used to think I was a useless Guide.”
Ju-oh had stopped walking too, one brow raised as he looked at Seo-ha. His expression suggested he didn’t like where this was going and might cut him off any second.
“I don’t know everyone’s story, but among Guides, I thought no one had it worse than me.”
Seo-ha gave a bitter smile. Maybe if he’d never become a Guide in the first place, it would’ve been easier—but to be one and still be this ineffective? It left him feeling hollow.
“People treated me like I was just for emergencies, and the worst part is… I didn’t even say anything back.”
Ju-oh winced and looked away. There had been a time when he didn’t know anything about Seo-ha’s situation and saw him as little more than an emergency battery to calm his own outbursts.
But Seo-ha, unaware of the guilt surfacing in Ju-oh’s eyes, remained fixated on his watch.
“I remember the exact moment I decided to quit being a Guide. I thought, ‘That’s it. No more.’ The match rate never went up, and no matter how badly I wanted things to change, nothing ever did. So why keep clinging to it?”
His voice was gradually returning to its usual tone. It was a sign—he was finding himself again.
“Anyway, thanks, Han Ju-oh. If it weren’t for you, I…”
He’d started cheerfully, but as he glanced up at Ju-oh, he finally noticed the emotion in his eyes.
“What’s with that look?”
Those weren’t his usual confident eyes. They looked small. Hesitant.
“Go on in.”
Ju-oh shook his head like it was nothing and grabbed the handle to the Guild Leader’s office. Then, as if determined to protect Seo-ha’s precious watch himself, he summoned a thin barrier of wind around it.
Feeling something cool and refreshing like a soothing balm, Seo-ha looked at his wrist and noticed the invisible layer of Ju-oh’s power surrounding it. He stuck out his lower lip in a pout.
“You could’ve just done this from the start.”
Seeing how hard Seo-ha had tried to protect the thing, only to have Ju-oh finally do this now, left him feeling petty. Still, he didn’t try to break the barrier—because he knew it was Ju-oh’s way of showing he cared.
“Once you’re done, hang out with me.”
“Huh? You mean, like, eat together?”
Seo-ha replied offhandedly while still marveling at the air shield.
“Eat, have coffee… If that’s boring, we could go for a drive. Or catch a movie, whatever works.”
Food, coffee, a drive, a movie.
Seo-ha silently repeated the words to himself before glancing up.
“If we’re driving, maybe we could go see the ocean too. Take some photos, visit a park… How about a cozy bar? Or maybe we could go to one of those workshops and make perfume.”
Everything Han Ju-oh was saying kept connecting into one thing. And maybe because Seo-ha just kept listening without saying anything, Ju-oh’s voice came out with a touch of impatience.
“Let’s go on a real date.”
“You…”
Seo-ha opened his mouth like something had come to mind—but closed it again. That word, date, didn’t sound foreign to him.
He was the one who’d said it first—back during the insertion Guiding session.
“You remember everything I said?”
Honestly, he wasn’t sure what exactly he’d said while his mind was half out of it. If Ju-oh remembered it all, wasn’t that a problem?
That’s why he asked. But Ju-oh, clueless as ever, nodded plainly.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Well, okay, but still…”
Seo-ha held up his hand, asking for a moment to think, and let out a slow breath. He remembered Ju-oh confessing to him—but couldn’t recall if he’d said he liked Ju-oh back.
“Did I say I liked you?”
It was an innocent question, asked with pure curiosity—but Ju-oh’s face immediately brightened.
“No, I was asking if I liked you—”
Trying to clarify before the misunderstanding got worse, Seo-ha started to speak—
And the door suddenly swung open.
It was Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon.
“Ugh, seriously, this is too much. If you’re gonna have that kind of sickly-sweet talk, take it somewhere else.”
