Han Ju-oh looked down at the danger level of his rampage displayed on his watch.
35%.
Add that to the 65% Seo-ha had cheerfully pointed out on his own watch, and it makes exactly 100%. Not that there’s any real significance in the numbers adding up like that, but at some point, Han Ju-oh had found himself paying closer attention to them.
Baek Seo-ha guides him. His danger level drops by 3%.
Baek Seo-ha guides him. His danger level drops by 5%.
Baek Seo-ha guides him. His danger level drops by 6%.
It was a process as slow and frustrating as booting up a clunky old computer. But Han Ju-oh waited. It wasn’t difficult. Watching Seo-ha, who was far more anxious than he was, chipped away at his impatience until all that remained was calm.
That calm naturally led him to start observing Seo-ha. The way his eyebrows lifted when he guided, the way his lashes trembled, the way his skin flushed red then paled, over and over again—down to his smooth lips…
The more he took in those shifting expressions, the more his gaze naturally wandered—to Seo-ha’s long neck, his sharply defined shoulders. Even in a plain cotton t-shirt, his physique stood out. He was far from scrawny. At a glance, you might even mistake him for an Esper, with a solid build and well-balanced limbs that gave him a large frame without any hint of sluggishness.
His muscles were evenly developed—firm, but not bulky or brutish. That might be why each movement of his well-sculpted body offered a quiet visual pleasure.
Watching Baek Seo-ha made him lose all sense of time. Before he knew it, the guiding session would be over. Especially this morning—just recalling the image of Seo-ha, still damp after his shower, was enough to stir his body.
“Ju-oh?”
A large hand waved in front of his eyes. It was Ian.
“Did I do something wrong? Or are you thinking about your partner?”
Ian caught on immediately just by looking at Han Ju-oh’s expression. Even though they’d been apart since Ju-oh went to Korea, the time they’d spent practically glued to each other hadn’t simply vanished.
“You really care about him, huh.”
Han Ju-oh affirmed with silence. He had no particular reason to hide Seo-ha from Ian. It was just… because he knew Ian all too well.
“You’re worried.”
Ian shrugged like he didn’t get it, his broad, well-developed shoulders rising playfully. Being the largest-framed Esper around, even his smallest movements carried weight—and he knew exactly how to use that to his advantage.
That’s what made him so irritating.
His looks alone drew attention, and on top of that, his fluent Korean pulled people in even further. Add to that Ian’s natural charm and charisma, and it became nearly impossible not to stare.
Call it jealousy—he didn’t care. He just hated seeing Seo-ha look at someone else for too long. Especially when that “someone” was supposedly his friend. “Han Ju-oh has a friend?” people would probably say in disbelief—and that made it even worse. Baek Seo-ha was exactly the type to grin like he’d forgotten that Kim Mi-yeon was Ju-oh’s friend too, even before she became a Guild Leader.
“I’m leaving.”
“See you around.”
Ian smiled brightly and waved. The same guy who bombarded him with calls to hang out now gave a flat, casual farewell. If only he had been more suspicious of that.
It would’ve been nice to get guided today, but he didn’t want to push and make Seo-ha uncomfortable. With that thought in mind, Han Ju-oh filled his head with nothing but Seo-ha—and completely failed to anticipate what would happen next.
***
Sometimes, it just happened.
He’d be utterly exhausted, completely sleep-deprived, feeling like he could pass out cold even if the world flipped upside down—but the moment he closed his eyes, he’d only get restless, shallow sleep.
Tonight was one of those nights.
It felt like he should’ve been able to sleep soundly, but he kept waking up.
Maybe it was thirst. Maybe he had to pee.
Either way, Seo-ha was getting out of bed for the third time now. He rubbed his eyes and shuffled out of the room, dragging his feet. Opening the fridge, he pulled out a 500ml bottle of water—half-empty. He’d already taken a few swigs from it earlier when he woke up. He gulped down the rest.
He hadn’t woken up because he was parched. But once the water started going down, he just drank it all. The now-empty bottle was lazily dropped on the island counter, and he trudged back to bed.
He wormed his way under the blanket and lay down again. He closed his eyes, but sleep didn’t come immediately, so he turned onto his side. Curling up like a shrimp still wasn’t enough, so he shoved the pillow aside. Just when it felt like he might finally doze off, the urge to pee struck again.
“Why is my digestive system so damn simple?”
Shouldn’t the water take some time to travel through the esophagus, stay a bit in the stomach, and then go through the small and large intestines in order?
It hadn’t even been that long since he drank, and already he needed to go. Muttering to himself, Seo-ha got up and stumbled into the bathroom.
Before the toilet had even finished flushing, he was back out, eyes barely half-open and flickering.
“Is it because I feel gross?”
He felt like he’d been sweating in his sleep. Sliding a hand under his shirt to check his stomach, he ended up yanking the shirt off and tossing it aside. Then he turned back into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
Maybe after a wash, he’d finally be able to sleep…
***
“Yeah, it’s not happening.”
Seo-ha spoke without even trying to close his wide, alert eyes. He’d been having a silent staring contest with the ceiling—if his eyes got too cold, he’d shut them tightly, and with any luck, he’d fall asleep just like that. But no such luck.
Even if he did manage to close his eyes, the moment the chill eased up, they popped right back open.
“What the hell is wrong with me?”
His body was clearly exhausted. So why, when it should’ve been easy to pass out cold, was he tossing and turning instead? Even he couldn’t figure it out.
At this rate, he might just stay up all night. And for the record, his body was still utterly drained, sinking into the mattress like it was quicksand. He was so worn out he could barely move a finger, yet his eyelids kept fluttering open and shut like they had a mind of their own…
“Ugh.”
Unable to hold back, Seo-ha crawled across the bed on his knees and placed both hands on the wall. He pressed his ear to it, trying to gauge whether he could hear anything from the other side.
“You sleeping?”
Han Ju-oh had to be just as tired, so it made sense for him to be asleep. But still, he wanted to know—was he awake too? Tossing and turning? Sleeping soundly?
He raised a hand, tempted to knock on the wall, then stopped.
The world might be full of Gates now, but buildings these days were built far sturdier than in the past. Still, knocking on a wall could send vibrations who knows how far. Better not risk it.
Left with no choice, Seo-ha pulled away from the wall and sat cross-legged on the floor, picking up his phone. It wasn’t like he had no way to reach out.
In the dark room, the phone screen glowed especially bright. Seo-ha stared at it, thinking about what kind of message to send, then decided to keep it simple.
[You awake?]
There wasn’t a phrase more honest or accurate to his current feelings than that.
He hit send, then lowered the phone onto his knee without leaving the room. Arms crossed, he stared down at the screen.
This wasn’t some lingering feeling for an ex or anything… and yet, Seo-ha didn’t find his behavior strange at all. As the silence stretched on—about as long as a staring contest—Seo-ha suddenly snatched up his phone.
“He read it.”
He must’ve had read receipts on. Han Ju-oh had seen the message. Maybe he just glanced at it half-asleep, but he did read it.
Still, no reply.
“Guess I was being shameless expecting an answer.”
Trying to find the cause of his disappointment in himself instead of Han Ju-oh, Seo-ha put the phone down.
“Okay, sleep.”
It was already 3 a.m. If he didn’t get some rest now, tomorrow was going to be a mess—
“Oh?”
The phone buzzed. Just once, short and sharp—but that was enough. Seo-ha quickly turned on the screen and opened the message.
A reply from Han Ju-oh.
“Hell yes.”
Seo-ha eagerly jumped off the bed and left his room.
[Come over.]
As expected, Han Ju-oh had instantly picked up on what Seo-ha’s message really meant.
He punched in the now-familiar passcode and entered. He’d come by enough times that even with the lights off, he had no trouble finding Han Ju-oh’s room.
The door was half-open. Seo-ha knocked gently to announce his presence and peeked in.
“Can I come in?”
Lying in bed, Han Ju-oh lifted the blanket slightly, creating just enough space for Seo-ha to slip in.
Seo-ha smiled brightly and claimed the spot like it was made for him. He didn’t need a pillow. He had something firmer and warmer—Han Ju-oh’s arm.
“Mmm, this is nice.”
“Why couldn’t you sleep?”
“I laid down to sleep, but I kept waking up. Thought maybe I was thirsty, so I drank some water. Even took a shower. Still almost pulled an all-nighter with my eyes wide open. But you couldn’t sleep either, huh?”
Han Ju-oh’s voice was low, probably because it was the middle of the night—but it didn’t sound sleepy at all.
“Because you weren’t here.”
Compared to Seo-ha, it was a ridiculously short answer. But it didn’t feel insincere. If anything, that one simple line made something click inside him.
Maybe the reason I couldn’t sleep was the same.
Because Han Ju-oh wasn’t there.
But… I’m not sure if that’s really the answer.
“I’ll find out. Whether I couldn’t sleep because you weren’t there… or if it was something else.”
Seo-ha squeezed his eyes shut. Then suddenly opened them again, remembering something.
“Let’s do the guiding first thing after we wake up. That okay?”
“Yeah.”
The moment Han Ju-oh answered, Seo-ha closed his eyes again.
‘Han Ju-oh said he couldn’t sleep because I wasn’t there. And me too? But I don’t really think that’s it. Sure, I’ve fallen asleep plenty of times chatting with him, but to say I kept waking up because of that…’
At some point, the thoughts faded out.
