He had given Haru a room that felt more like a storage closet. Even when the light went out and Lee Haru asked if it could be fixed, Kang Min simply said he would take care of it—and never did.
That was why Lee Haru had gone to the shopping mall with a sense of unease, worried the Espers might not even open the door for him.
But seeing Kang Min now, loaded down with bags of things clearly meant for Ji Yeon-woo, made one thing clear: Kang Min was not indifferent by nature—he just placed different value on Ji Yeon-woo and Lee Haru.
At least Yu Je-hyun is not like that… I suppose that is something to be thankful for.
Watching Yu Je-hyun calmly stand and clear the table, showing no concern over Kang Min taking Ji Yeon-woo somewhere, Lee Haru felt a faint sense of relief.
Relieved? Why?
Then it struck him—his feelings were not quite natural.
Instead of feeling hurt by Kang Min’s actions, what stood out more was the relief that Yu Je-hyun showed no special interest in Ji Yeon-woo.
“Still hungry? Want me to heat up another plate of pasta?”
Yu Je-hyun, seeing Lee Haru spaced out, assumed he was still hungry.
Lee Haru turned his head slowly, as if it might creak from the motion, and stared blankly at Yu Je-hyun, who was watching him with quiet concern.
“Esper Yu Je-hyun… are you not worried about Guide Ji Yeon-woo?”
“What kind of bullshit is that?”
The blunt reaction threw him off. He could not tell whether Yu Je-hyun was genuinely annoyed, or if he was irritated by the mention of Ji Yeon-woo.
If only I could see what he is thinking.
“No, never mind. The pasta was good.”
“…I ate well too.”
Even though the meal had not been made for him, he had finished every last grain of rice. A thank-you seemed appropriate.
Yu Je-hyun, at least when it came to food, acted with a surprising degree of normalcy.
“I will clean up. Go rest in the living room. I need to receive Guiding later anyway.”
Yu Je-hyun went a step further and gently ushered him out of the dining room. With a light push on his back, Lee Haru headed for the living room sofa, burdened with a swirl of complicated thoughts.
He had not yet seen how Hong Seong-jun interacted with Ji Yeon-woo. Judging by Kang Min and Yu Je-hyun alone, it was obvious Kang Min had taken an interest in Ji Yeon-woo.
That made Lee Haru start to question all his earlier assumptions.
Wait… what if this is not a multiple-top, one-bottom setup, but a single-top, single-bottom plot instead? But if that is the case, why are all three Espers ridiculously handsome?
Not to mention their wildly different personalities. And the fact that they were all living together?
The way Ji Yeon-woo showed up after Lee Haru had already settled into the mansion also followed the usual formula for a multi-top, one-bottom story with a villainous “sub” character thrown in.
It was Yu Je-hyun’s behavior that complicated things. If he were truly interested in Ji Yeon-woo, should he not have left the cleanup to Lee Haru and gone after him instead?
Could this be a jealousy-bait tactic?
Lee Haru glanced around the room, trying to organize his thoughts. Knowing Yu Je-hyun’s personality, even if he did like someone, he was the type to hide it behind a wall of emotional restraint.
It was almost as if showing affection would give him hives.
That made it entirely possible he was pretending not to care about Ji Yeon-woo and using Lee Haru as a convenient distraction.
If I had to possess someone, I wish it had been the main bottom.
As things stood, he was stuck watching the Espers fall for Ji Yeon-woo and spiral into a melodrama of passion and obsession.
Fortunately, he did not harbor any real feelings for the Espers. If he had truly been Lee Haru, this whole situation would have been a source of crushing emotional stress.
If Lee Haru had genuinely loved Kang Min, just seeing him dote on Ji Yeon-woo would have been enough to make his heart fall apart.
It is a blessing that I am not affected by Lee Haru’s emotions.
All he had were vague flashes of memory through dreams. Had he actually absorbed the memories and feelings of this body, it would have been a nightmare.
“Why are you sighing like that? You think the floor is going to cave in or something?”
He had been so lost in thought he did not even notice Yu Je-hyun sit down beside him. Lee Haru turned and met his gaze.
Yu Je-hyun’s eyes met his directly, as if returning the weight of his stare. His face glowed, as always, like he was wrapped in reflected light all by himself.
As a warm flush crept into his bronze-toned skin, Lee Haru abruptly asked,
“What is your Rampage Risk Index right now?”
He had not forgotten Yu Je-hyun mentioning earlier that he needed Guiding.
“So you were staring at me that intently just to ask that…”
Yu Je-hyun muttered something under his breath, and Lee Haru tilted his head, not quite following.
If he wanted to avoid a bad ending, he had to demonstrate his worth at every opportunity. Ji Yeon-woo might also be an S-rank Guide, but Lee Haru was no less capable.
Granted, Ji Yeon-woo probably had better match rates—as the main bottom, that was to be expected.
“Give me your hand. If Esper Yu Je-hyun is already asking for Guiding, then Espers Kang Min and Hong Seong-jun must have pretty high Rampage Risk Indexes by now too.”
“And you’re already thinking about Guiding someone else.”
They were having a conversation, technically, but something about it felt slightly off. Yu Je-hyun’s behavior had been strange all day, just a bit out of sync.
“Of course I am. Even if it is only temporary, I am still Alpha Team 1’s assigned Guide.”
Though even that position felt precarious—he might not even make it to six months before Ji Yeon-woo took his place.
Still, whenever he left, he intended to carry out his role properly until the very end.
“Sixty-seven.”
“Sorry?”
“You asked my Rampage Risk Index. It’s sixty-seven.”
As the number hovered above Yu Je-hyun’s watch screen, Lee Haru’s lashes fluttered.
Now he understood why there was a flush on Yu Je-hyun’s face. At that level, the pain had to be severe.
The fact that he had waited until Lee Haru finished eating before saying anything suddenly struck him as unexpectedly considerate.
Carefully, he reached out and took Yu Je-hyun’s hand. Even with both his hands wrapped around it, it still felt like he was the one being held.
“I’m starting the Guiding.”
Yu Je-hyun said nothing—he just stared, still and silent, as Lee Haru took his hand. The steady gaze made it oddly difficult to hold eye contact, so Lee Haru focused his mind on the task at hand.
Through their connected skin, the energy that had filled his body began to flow into Yu Je-hyun.
Each time the Rampage Risk Index dropped, the soft chime from the watch echoed faintly through the silence.
There was a sense of release, as if something long-blocked had finally broken open—yet at the same time, the solid fullness in his stomach emptied out, leaving a strange hollowness in its place. Lee Haru closed his eyes.
Even with his vision shut off, he could feel Yu Je-hyun’s gaze brushing his face like a breeze. That quiet pressure stirred an unnameable thirst deep inside him.
He tried to stay focused, but he could not stop wondering what kind of expression Yu Je-hyun was wearing.
Was it still the same unreadable look he had seen before closing his eyes?
How far has it dropped?
Unable to resist, he opened his eyes, intending to check the new number—and was met with Yu Je-hyun’s face, closer now, and visibly more flushed.
Heat radiated from his forehead. That was when Lee Haru realized—he had tilted his head forward, and their foreheads were touching.
He had meant to check for fever, but with both his hands occupied for Guiding, his head had moved on instinct.
He startled like someone waking from a dream, straightening his back quickly. Glancing at the unmoving Yu Je-hyun, he murmured awkwardly,
“…You’re burning up.”
Their foreheads had barely touched, but his skin still tingled with residual heat. If he looked in the mirror, he would probably see a red mark in the center of his forehead.
They might have grown more comfortable around each other, but they were not close enough for something like that—to touch foreheads, to check for a fever like it was nothing. He had never done that even with friends.
“Once we’re done, you should probably take something for the fever. Even Espers are not immune—prolonged high temperatures are never good…”
His lips moved faster than his thoughts, stumbling into each other from the sheer awkwardness. The silence on Yu Je-hyun’s part only made it worse.
Still at forty-five.
He had thought the Guiding had gone on long enough to settle things—long enough to digest that pasta—but Yu Je-hyun’s Rampage Risk Index remained high. It needed to drop below thirty to be considered stable.
Deliberately avoiding eye contact, Lee Haru kept his gaze glued to the watch screen. That was when something gently brushed his hair.
He looked up.
He had never seen the living room windows open. Which meant the breeze he felt just now… was not wind.
As if to confirm his suspicion, Yu Je-hyun’s right hand hovered in front of his face.
Lee Haru’s lips parted. He felt like he needed to say something, but no words came out.
“…Are you worried that I’m sick?”
Instead of his own tongue, it was Yu Je-hyun’s lips that moved, his voice low and quiet.
It felt like being caught in a snare—his gaze locked onto Lee Haru like nothing else in the world existed. That single look struck him with the force of something visceral, wrapping around his chest in a slow, aching squeeze.
Like a butterfly, lost and fluttering somewhere inside him, unsure of where to land.
67🥹🙏