Baek Seo-ha felt like he could fly. And technically, he was—cradled in Han Ju-oh’s arms as they soared through the sky. But more than anything, he was euphoric.
“Wahahahaha!”
The wind was smacking him in the face like it had a grudge, but Seo-ha just laughed, savoring every second of it.
“Ju-oh, can you see this? The sky is ridiculously beautiful right now.”
“Try saying that with your eyes open.”
“I honestly can’t tell if I’m flying through the sky or diving straight into the clouds.”
Han Ju-oh was probably shooting him a you’re hopeless kind of look, but whatever. Seo-ha couldn’t see it anyway.
“Is this what they call the happiness equilibrium? Or is it just that whole ‘joy comes after suffering’ thing?”
Maybe this was happiness finally arriving to balance out all the crap he’d been through. Or maybe it was the reward for enduring everything without giving up.
“Didn’t you submit your resignation?”
Seo-ha ignored the dry remark. Not like someone who dragged a man back after quitting had any right to talk.
“This breeze is incredible.”
His cheeks were flapping so hard he probably looked ten years older, but Seo-ha just kept grinning. And it wasn’t fake—it was a laugh bubbling up from the deepest part of him.
“Hahahahahahahaha!”
The world had never looked so beautiful.
***
They reached the rooftop airspace above the company building where the guild was based. The rooftop—typically used by Espers with flight abilities—was well maintained and doubled as a rest area.
Still in Han Ju-oh’s arms, Seo-ha glanced down and spotted Moon Roi and Ian waiting for them.
“Hey, Ju-oh. Think you can give us a dramatic landing? Like, with wind and everything?”
Maybe because he’d already surrendered to the chaos, Han Ju-oh didn’t argue. Or maybe he just didn’t care anymore.
At Seo-ha’s cue, a gust of wind whipped around them, their clothes flapping wildly. With the perfect sound effects in tow, Seo-ha tapped Ju-oh’s chest to signal the descent, and they floated down in style.
“Holy shit.”
Moon Roi, watching them from below, raised his arms to shield his face from the sudden wind—and let out a curse, not a compliment. Maybe they overdid it.
As soon as Seo-ha touched solid ground, he let out a breath like he was finally safe.
“Humans were meant to keep their feet on the ground.”
“Big words from someone who just summoned a freaking typhoon.”
“I just wanted to make an entrance, okay?”
“Then maybe you should’ve rolled out a red carpet.”
“A red carpet? Damn, why didn’t I think of that?”
Seo-ha actually stopped to seriously consider the idea, and Moon Roi exhaled in disbelief.
“You’re nuts. Seriously. His eyes aren’t even focusing.”
Moon Roi had come here ready to celebrate, thinking things were finally resolved—but now he wasn’t sure if he should keep watching this circus unfold. Whether he knew or not, Seo-ha was beaming as he shouted with glee.
“I practically downed a pitcher of soda today. I’m in a phenomenal mood.”
“Yeah, no kidding. You look way too pleased with yourself.”
“You should’ve been there. Watching those two bastards’ faces crumble, one after the other? Pure bliss.”
“Seo-ha.”
Moon Roi pointed at Seo-ha’s lips.
“You’re bleeding.”
His lips had dried out and cracked from grinning in the high-altitude wind, and now they were smeared with blood—but that didn’t stop him from smiling. If anything, it made him look eerily deranged.
“I feel amazing. It’s fine.”
Seo-ha casually wiped the blood off with the back of his hand, planted his hands on his hips, and took a deep breath. Fresh air filled his lungs.
“The world’s so damn clear today.”
Moon Roi gave up trying to reason with him, and Ian didn’t even attempt to speak.
***
It wasn’t until they finally got the overexcited Seo-ha into a chair that they were able to go over everything that had happened.
Ian, who’d been especially worried about Han Ju-oh, felt a wave of relief seeing his friend safe. And as he looked at Ju-oh—who even seemed in better shape than before—his expression turned thoughtful.
“So that Davis guy, or whatever his name was—that Esper finally got what was coming to him?”
Moon Roi looked thoroughly satisfied. Seo-ha’s lips twitched, clearly trying not to grin, but Han Ju-oh immediately shut it down.
“Don’t smile.”
He tapped Seo-ha’s mouth, reminding him his lips were still split. Seo-ha, disappointed, settled for a chuckle in his throat.
“Heheheh. You should’ve seen Davis’s face. Or even Team Leader Yoon Ji-guk’s…”
As he launched into his hero’s tale of taking them down one by one, Seo-ha kept repeating that they really should’ve witnessed it themselves.
Hearing about it was one thing. Seeing it? Something else entirely.
But honestly, from the look on Seo-ha’s face, Moon Roi and Ian could already imagine it perfectly.
“It’s a relief everything worked out.”
Moon Roi jumped in before Seo-ha could repeat himself.
“You’re both back in one piece, so I guess we don’t have to worry anymore, right?”
Seo-ha nodded eagerly. He still had one final card to play—he was saving it for dramatic effect. But the anticipation was making his lips itch. Sitting still was a struggle.
“Now that I think about it, Baek Seo-ha, you really had me on edge. You kept insisting you were fine, but you looked like you could collapse any second. You were chugging coffee like it was water, and—mmph!”
Seo-ha slapped a hand over his mouth. Moon Roi narrowed his eyes, glaring in protest, but Seo-ha didn’t budge.
“I’m not done yet.”
‘Then just talk—why are you covering my mouth?’ Moon Roi frowned in irritation.
Seo-ha finally pulled his hand away, dragging it slowly across Moon Roi’s lips.
“Gross.”
Moon Roi wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, but Ian silently passed him a handkerchief.
“Thanks.”
Moon Roi took it without hesitation. As he cleaned himself off, Seo-ha shot a nervous glance at Han Ju-oh.
‘Roi, ever heard the saying? Toss a stone carelessly and you might kill a frog.’
There were still words you didn’t bring up in front of Han Ju-oh. Seo-ha had already put his foot in his mouth once, and he had no intention of doing it again. Ironically, the way he visibly panicked only reminded everyone of that past misstep—except him.
Han Ju-oh’s smile deepened.
“Why are you just sitting there grinning, Han Ju-oh? What’s with that look, huh?”
Seo-ha jabbed him with a finger, determined to rope him in. But Ju-oh only gave a lazy shrug.
“Thirsty? Want some water?”
He said it so casually that Seo-ha was momentarily stunned into silence.
Seo-ha stood frozen, speechless—and then Ju-oh doubled down.
“Water, coffee, soda—whatever you want. Just stay put. I’ll get it for you.”
“Han Ju-oh…”
Seo-ha’s face turned a violent shade of red as he glared at Ju-oh like he might combust from embarrassment.
Moon Roi, folding the handkerchief, muttered under his breath,
“You two are really laying it on thick.”
‘It’s not like that…’
“It’s not that cheesy, is it?”
Han Ju-oh just said it wasn’t enough. Like he could push it further if he tried.
Moon Roi raised an eyebrow at Seo-ha.
“Must be nice. You’ve got a partner and a boyfriend now.”
“Yeah… feels like I’ve got the whole damn world.”
Seo-ha mumbled, resigned to the teasing.
Then Ian, quiet until now, finally made his presence known. He didn’t need to say much—just leaning forward slightly was enough to command attention with his sheer size.
“I think it’s about time you told us.”
There was a weight behind his words—not accusing, just expectant.
Seo-ha and Han Ju-oh exchanged a glance like they’d rehearsed it. Even Moon Roi, who’d just been observing, could tell something was up.
“Well…”
Seo-ha hesitated. He’d planned to share the news—wanted to surprise them, even—but now that the moment was here, he didn’t know how to phrase it.
His eyes naturally drifted to Han Ju-oh. His Pair Esper. His boyfriend. And now…
“I might be getting a husband soon.”
“You’re fucking—”
Moon Roi cursed on reflex, then quickly clamped his mouth shut. But his eyes were locked on Seo-ha, wide and unblinking.
Ian, meanwhile, wasn’t nearly as shocked. Instead, he focused on the deeper meaning behind the words.
“Imprint.”
He said it plainly. Seo-ha nodded.
“Bingo. We imprinted. Me and Han Ju-oh. He’s done for without me now.”
An imprint wasn’t just a partnership—it was a binding force. A tether that tied Seo-ha and Han Ju-oh together, inextricably.
Seo-ha turned back to Ju-oh.
This was the same guy who used to snap at him, whose sharp tongue lashed out whenever something didn’t go his way. Now, he was soft.
He didn’t even seem interested in saying much. Just being beside Seo-ha seemed to bring him peace.
Like a porcupine who’d rolled around long enough to wear down its own spikes—rounded, gentle, finally able to curl up against its mate.
Han Ju-oh’s gaze was warm and unwavering, fixed solely on Seo-ha.
It was fine when they were alone. But the fact that he didn’t tone it down in front of others? Mortifying.
Seo-ha glanced awkwardly between Moon Roi and Ian, who were still staring like they couldn’t believe it. He let out a sheepish laugh.
“So yeah. That’s where we are now. Me and Han Ju-oh—we’re a perfect set. I’m the needle, he’s the thread.”
“Oh, cut the shy act. Just keep grinning with blood all over your face—it suits you better.”
Moon Roi scratched at his arm, visibly recoiling from the wave of secondhand embarrassment.
