A short while later, after eating nearly half of a large slice of strawberry tart, Hye-seong finally set his fork down. Still holding his juice in one hand, he spoke carefully.
“I really ate a lot… Can I stop now?”
“Sure.”
“Thank you for the meal, Yoo Ji-ho.”
“Are you still drinking that juice?”
“Yes.”
When he nodded, Ji-ho gave a soft chuckle. Hye-seong smiled instinctively in return, then brought the straw back to his lips.
Now that he thought about it, it had to be getting pretty late. He glanced at the clock—and immediately flinched in shock.
“It’s already this late?!”
He’d woken up later than usual, had breakfast, then dessert—and somehow, it was already well past lunchtime. He quickly looked up at Ji-ho in confusion.
“Yoo Ji-ho, aren’t you busy today?”
To Hye-seong, Yoo Ji-ho was the busiest man alive. Even when he used to follow him around like a puppy, getting to see him once a day was already a miracle.
“I’ve been through a lot these past few days.”
“Ah… I see.”
So he’s taking a break today. That explains why he wasn’t feeling well, too.
Hye-seong reached out and clasped Ji-ho’s hand without warning. Ji-ho’s expression stiffened slightly as he asked,
“…What are you doing?”
“We should do a guiding session. I was going to do that and then head out. You should get some real rest too.”
“……”
“I actually feel more energized than usual, thanks to you!”
Trying to reassure him, Hye-seong forced a cheerful tone. It wasn’t a lie—he really did feel fine now.
But instead of responding, Ji-ho gently pulled his hand away… and then reached up to ruffle Hye-seong’s hair.
“……”
“……”
Startled, Hye-seong looked up into his face. Ji-ho didn’t say anything for a long moment. His expression was calm as always, but it felt like something deep was turning over inside.
Then, in a quiet, soothing voice, he said:
“Don’t push yourself. Stay a few more days. You have to get the door fixed anyway.”
Hye-seong blinked slowly. He remembered Ji-ho saying he’d sent someone earlier, but he’d never actually dealt with a repair like this before, so he wasn’t sure how long it would take.
“But shouldn’t I at least go check on it?”
“What for? That’s why I sent someone.”
“Well, yeah, but still…”
“It’s basically a full renovation. It’ll take a few days.”
“Huh? Really?”
Was it really that bad? Hye-seong’s face grew serious.
This was bad. He’d completely forgotten about the repair costs, and starting tomorrow, he was supposed to resume his duties as Ji-ho’s Guide. Everything was about to get complicated.
Staying here at Ji-ho’s place any longer was obviously out of the question. Going back to the dorm would’ve been ideal, but he’d already submitted his notice to move out, so that was no longer an option.
And more than anything—he absolutely did not want to return to his old roommate.
He didn’t want that person to know he’d come back to Ji-ho. Who knows what kind of awful things he’d say again?
No matter how many insults were directed at him, Hye-seong could tolerate them—but he didn’t want to hear another disgusting word spoken about Ji-ho.
All those practical problems he’d managed to forget for a while came crashing back, and his mind began to race.
“Did they say how long it’ll take? If it’s going to be a few days, I’ll have to crash at a friend’s place. I need to get my stuff too, and probably check in on the progress myself. Oh—do you know where my phone is? I should probably start looking into booking a place to stay until the repairs are—”
His rapid string of words was abruptly cut off—by Ji-ho kissing him.
Ji-ho didn’t force his way in. He simply pressed their lips together and gave a soft tug.
When their lips parted, Hye-seong stared up at him, lips pressed together tightly. His heart was pounding like crazy, but the one who had kissed him looked completely calm.
Ji-ho, who had been quietly watching his lips flutter all this time, murmured,
“You smelled like strawberries.”
“…Would you like some?”
Maybe he had wanted some. Feeling awkward for drinking it all by himself, Hye-seong sheepishly offered the juice still in his hand.
But Ji-ho wrinkled his nose, his eyes silently screaming: Get that overly sweet stuff out of my face. With no other choice, the thick straw found its way back into Hye-seong’s mouth.
Did I mishear something?
Hye-seong vaguely recalled something Director Shin had said at that work dinner a while back. He’d been drunk, so the details were fuzzy, but he was pretty sure Ji-ho loved fruit juice… Maybe not, then.
“Guide me. You said we’d do it now.”
“Ah, right.”
Hye-seong reached again for Ji-ho’s hand—only for him to effortlessly dodge it. Ji-ho spoke nonchalantly.
“Not like that. You don’t like holding hands, remember?”
“Huh? Me? No, I wouldn’t…”
“Didn’t you run away from home just because I only held your hand?”
“……”
Hye-seong’s tightly pressed lips trembled. Embarrassed. Frustrated. Speechless.
He wanted to argue, but it wasn’t technically wrong… which made it worse. Still, that was such a twisted version of the truth.
Seeing him flustered and cornered, Ji-ho’s eyes crinkled ever so slightly. Then, as he leaned in close, Hye-seong reflexively shut his eyes.
Instead of kissing him, Ji-ho lightly brushed his fingertips across Hye-seong’s soft lips.
“Still cold.”
“It’s because of the juice… Do you not like it?”
“No.”
The answer came right as their lips met again.
Ji-ho’s soft tongue slipped in, sweeping through Hye-seong’s mouth like it wanted to claim every last drop of sweetness.
His tongue went in so deep, it felt like he couldn’t breathe—and saliva threatened to spill from Hye-seong’s parted lips.
But Ji-ho didn’t let that happen. He pulled back just enough to lick and suck away every trace of it from his lips.
“Ah… Haa…”
Only after Ji-ho withdrew did Hye-seong finally find space to breathe, gasping softly.
But the moment didn’t last. Ji-ho’s hand cradled the back of his neck and tilted his head up even further.
“Mmph…!”
Their lips met again, and his breath hitched.
All Hye-seong could do now was follow that slick, warm movement inside him as best he could.
And as he did, everything else started to blur—the confusing emotions that had tormented him for days, the racing thoughts from earlier, even the words they’d just exchanged.
Ji-ho kissed him again, sucking gently on his lips, and murmured mid-kiss. The words came out muffled, interrupted by their mouths constantly touching.
“Now that it’s come to this… just stay and rest for a few more days.”
“But… I feel really bad. I can’t just—”
Hearing the guilty murmur, Ji-ho chuckled low. What was there to feel bad about, especially when the person in question had broken his front door?
“I don’t mind. Just take it easy today, and starting tomorrow… let’s go for walks in the neighborhood. You should get some fresh air.”
“O-okay…”
Hye-seong nodded, eyes hazy. Ji-ho had been whispering to him from so close that their lips kept brushing, and the sweetness in his voice felt like it was bewitching him completely.
***
Long fingers wrapped in gloves flicked through the air. The object suspended in midair flipped over with a light twist.
With his palm now facing upward, he gave it a tap with his index finger, and it wobbled slightly in place.
His expression, as he sat on the floor and stared up at it, remained unchanged. He was intensely focused.
Yoo Ji-ho kept flipping and shaking it in the air, deep in thought.
What’s inside this thing?
What he was concentrating on—was the sound.
Something inside the hard shell clinked and rattled every time it moved, like there were marbles sealed within.
And in this vast, echoing space, it sounded like delicate beads rolling inside a cavern.
Just then, the silence beside him broke with the sound of approaching footsteps.
It was the team leader of the Esper team dispatched with him.
“Esper-nim, should we start heading back?”
“Yeah.”
Until now, Ji-ho had been idly floating the carcass of a dead crustacean variant in the air. He slowly rose to his feet.
As soon as he stopped moving his hand, the suspended body dropped with a thud. The sound of its hard shell cracking echoed throughout the large space.
Thankfully, today’s Gate had been predicted in advance, making cleanup much easier.
The Espers had preemptively locked down the building before anything spilled out, entering the Gate and neutralizing the threat from within.
They could’ve forced the Gate shut by destroying the core—but it wasn’t deemed dangerous enough to warrant that, so they simply waited for natural dissipation.
With time to spare, the Espers began making their way back toward the exit.
Wearing black tactical masks, the armed Espers walked through pitch-black darkness. Unless you were a physically enhanced Esper, you wouldn’t have been able to see even a step ahead.
It was like walking on a dead planet devoid of all life.
“Hey, look! Over there!”
Suddenly, one of the Espers walking beside Ji-ho took off running toward something. Ji-ho turned his gaze in the same direction, wondering what had prompted the sudden move.
“……”
On the barren, lifeless earth, there was a mound of glowing stones piled like a grave.
