While locking eyes with the utterly frozen Yoo Ji-ho, Hye-seong glanced at the time. His allotted hour was almost up.
“Ah!”
Startled by how much time had passed, Hye-seong quickly let go of Yoo Ji-ho’s hand, brushed off his knees, and stood up.
As he moved, Yoo Ji-ho slowly lifted his head, watching Hye-seong’s every action. For some reason, the Guide had suddenly gotten busy, rubbing his tingling legs after kneeling for so long and hurriedly adjusting his posture.
He slung his bag back over his shoulder and fussed about, tidying up the space in an awkward hurry. Then he faced Yoo Ji-ho again and gave a bright, polite bow.
“Then, Yoo Ji-ho-ssi, I’ll be heading out now.”
Even now, Yoo Ji-ho hadn’t said a single word. Still dazed, he found himself blurting out without thinking,
“…Where are you going?”
“Huh?”
Hye-seong paused for a beat, trying to make sense of the question—then hurried to answer, realizing what it must be.
Maybe Yoo Ji-ho was so busy that he wasn’t aware of his own schedule?
“Oh, I was only scheduled for one hour today. Gotta stick to the timetable. You must be busy, so I’ll get going. Please get some rest. Goodbye!”
With that, he offered another firm bow and turned toward the door—but hesitated.
“Oh, and…”
“……”
The sudden voice made one of Yoo Ji-ho’s eyebrows twitch upward.
He was still reclining on his elbow, half-sitting up, but now he was staring at Hye-seong with a completely different expression—bewildered, even a little grave. His brow was more deeply furrowed than before.
Hye-seong swallowed hard.
“Yoo Ji-ho-ssi.”
This was it. The one thing he had always wanted to say. A once-in-a-lifetime chance he might never get again.
Last time, he’d missed the opportunity like an idiot. But this time—this time, he’d been lucky enough to get another chance. He wasn’t going to waste it.
He had imagined this moment all weekend. Practiced it in his head a thousand times.
“Thank you. Truly. Always.”
“……”
And with those simple but heartfelt words, he bowed one final time and turned around, quickly walking out.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
His heart pounded in his chest like it was about to burst. As he waited for the elevator, Hye-seong tried to steady his breath, but the adrenaline wouldn’t let up.
I really did it.
His lips curled slightly as he kept them pressed together. He hadn’t messed up. He’d done the best he could. He hadn’t gone over time, and he’d even managed to say what he most wanted to say.
No regrets. That thought alone made him feel ecstatic.
And that wasn’t all.
Even in his unconscious state, Yoo Ji-ho had gently drawn in Hye-seong’s energy.
So that’s what Guiding is supposed to feel like…
It was the first time since becoming a Guide that Hye-seong had felt the sensation of energy flowing into an Esper.
Until now, he’d only been able to confirm things by looking at the chart. He’d studied and trained, but never experienced the feeling firsthand—until today, thanks to Yoo Ji-ho.
Inexperienced Guides usually struggled to manage their energy properly.
You could feel the energy leaving your body, sure—but measuring intensity required either total mental clarity or a lot of physical contact. That was the only way to make Guiding truly effective.
The wider the gap in rank between Guide and Esper, the more the Guiding relied on the Esper’s will rather than the Guide’s. In other words, if there was a large rank difference, an Esper could theoretically absorb all of a Guide’s energy if they wanted to.
That’s why it was standard practice to match Espers with Guides of the same rank, especially right after battle—when Espers were most desperate for Guiding. It was a safety policy meant to protect the Guides.
Of course, there was no Guide in the country with a matching or higher rank than S-rank Yoo Ji-ho, and assigning someone like Hye-seong—two ranks below—could’ve been very dangerous. That’s likely what Choi Yoon-sol had been worried about, too.
But in that Guiding Room that Hye-seong had just exited, nothing dangerous had happened.
Of course. There’s no way Yoo Ji-ho-ssi would ever make that kind of mistake.
Honestly, Hye-seong had never once worried about the risk. Yoo Ji-ho was famously polite, even to civilians—he couldn’t imagine him mistreating a Guide.
Maybe he even pretends to sleep on purpose during Guiding, just so Guides won’t be nervous?
So they wouldn’t get scared or flustered. The thought hit him so suddenly, his jaw slackened in awe.
“Whoa… that actually makes sense.”
The more he thought about it, the warmer his chest felt.
His soft voice echoed faintly through the quiet hallway in front of the elevator.
Yoo Ji-ho-ssi was even more thoughtful in person.
Moved by that warmth, Hye-seong stepped into the elevator with a small smile.
***
Click. The door shut with a quiet sound.
“Oh, and… Yoo Ji-ho-ssi.”
“……”
“Thank you. Truly. Always.”
Yoo Ji-ho replayed the moment in his head with a blank expression, still dazed from sleep.
What the hell is that idiot even thanking me for?
Still groggy, he frowned and ran a hand over his face. He had no idea what the hell just happened. Everything felt foggy. Maybe because he’d just woken up? The constant high-pitched ringing in his ears—always with him like a second skin—seemed quieter than usual.
He still felt like shit… but maybe slightly less than usual.
He thought back to the Guide who’d grabbed his hand like a thief and disappeared, and glanced down at that same hand with a grimace, his brow twitching.
If he’d been awake, that might’ve been seriously disturbing.
But he didn’t feel nauseous. Not right now. Maybe because he was too shocked. Or maybe still half-asleep.
Or maybe it was because that brat had the good sense to let go before he fully woke up.
“…Ah.”
That was it. At least the kid had gotten out of there quickly—that was a small mercy.
He sat up straight on the couch.
Normally, when he closed his eyes, Guides would come in one at a time, use the attached patch to perform Non-contact Guiding, and quietly leave. That was the standard routine.
Even after all this “Pair Guide” nonsense started, it had been the same. He’d joked about it a few times, and the Guides had gotten the message—after that, no one laid a finger on him. Everyone tiptoed around him like mice.
He’d let his guard down.
More than anything, the silence in his mind felt… unnatural. It had been ages since he slept more than 30 minutes. But now, his frayed nerves felt like they’d been submerged underwater—completely still.
“……”
Scrub. Scrub.
Still spaced out, he absentmindedly scrubbed the hand that had been held by the Guide. A wave-pattern patch was still attached to the arm where he’d temporarily removed his pager.
He glanced at his now-empty wrist, then reached over to grab the pager he’d left on the couch. The small screen was filled with missed calls.
During the short time he’d been asleep—and barely awake—Director Shin Hyung-cheol had apparently tried to contact him nonstop.
With a grimace, Yoo Ji-ho scrolled through the log.
[Call – Director]
[Call – Director]
[Call – Director]
[Call – Director]
[Call – Director]
[Call – Director]
[Call – Director]
[Message – Director]
After the endless barrage of missed calls, a new message blinked at the bottom, setting off his nerves even more.
Expression blank, he opened it.
[Ji-ho, your wave pattern just hit its most stable reading in the past ten years^^ The lab’s having a party over here. Take the rest of the day off~ Let’s talk tomorrow^^]
[Congrats on finding your white-horse-riding Guide~^^]
Yoo Ji-ho shot to his feet and yanked the patch off his arm. His data had been streaming in real-time this whole time.
Crash! With a flick of his arm, the connected screen went flying, tumbling loudly across the Guiding Room.
Running a hand through his hair in exasperation, he began pacing the room.
“You were serious, right? You said if you found someone who could do Contact Guiding, you’d get regular checks and consistent Guiding, remember?”
“Of course. Don’t you trust me?”
That was what he said. He could practically hear the smug little laugh of the Director echoing in his ear.
“Haah… fuck.”
His gaze slowly turned toward the door. The one that Guide had disappeared through, after grabbing his hand and vanishing.
Only now did his eyes sharpen, burning with intensity as they locked onto the door.
