“What, what did I even do…? Huh? Hey, where are you going—don’t just walk away in the middle of my sentence!”
Yoo Ji-ho suddenly stood up and walked over to where Hye-seong was fussing at the counter.
At last, Hye-seong had managed to finish brewing two hot cups of coffee and was carefully transferring them onto a tray.
“Huh? What brings you here?”
“I just remembered something.”
He brought over a carton of milk, poured a little into the coffee, and handed it to Hye-seong. It was a little odd, but since it was Yoo Ji-ho offering, Hye-seong took a sip without hesitation.
“How is it?”
“……!”
It still had the bitter edge, but it was far milder, smoother. It didn’t taste good exactly, but it was a lot more drinkable. He might even be able to finish the whole cup.
“Better?”
“Yes!”
He nodded and took another sip. Yoo Ji-ho let out a low chuckle.
“The Director always drinks it like this.”
“Ah, of course. That’s so him…”
And far off in the background, watching this scene, Director Shin stood frozen, his face pale.
He felt a shiver crawl up his entire body.
You’re telling me he’s not forcing that kid to stay?
It felt like watching a gumiho casually wag eighteen tails at an unsuspecting child. Yeah, if that bastard had tails, eighteen would be exactly right.
Did he seriously find a Guide who can handle Yoo Ji-ho? He didn’t know the full story, but one thing was clear: this wasn’t something he could butt into.
It felt like there was some invisible barrier drawn at the kitchen’s threshold.
“Let’s go sit down and drink.”
“Oh? I can bring them over—”
“How’re you gonna carry both?”
“Just a second!”
Yoo Ji-ho picked up the remaining cup and turned toward the living room. But Hye-seong quickly called out to stop him.
Now that he thought about it, there were only two cups—yet he had already drunk one of them. That meant one of the cups intended for someone else had ended up in his stomach.
“I drank this one by accident, so I’ll make another cup right away and bring it—”
“I don’t need one.”
Yoo Ji-ho tugged at his arm, forcing Hye-seong to follow. But something was off.
That meant… the coffee in Yoo Ji-ho’s hand was for Director Shin…
“Huh? Then shouldn’t we add milk to the Director’s—”
“That’s too much work. Let’s just go.”
“Huh…?”
Still confused, Hye-seong was led to the table, where Yoo Ji-ho set the cups down half-heartedly and flopped back onto the couch.
Then, without a thought, he pulled Hye-seong into his lap.
“Ah!”
The moment his butt hit Yoo Ji-ho’s firm thigh, Hye-seong sprang up like he’d touched a spring. His startled reaction made Yoo Ji-ho blink in surprise too.
“Hye-seong, what’s wrong?”
Unlike usual, Hye-seong looked at him with a genuinely shocked expression. Only then did Yoo Ji-ho seem to remember there was a guest present. He frowned.
“Ugh. So annoying.”
His gaze finally landed on the guest who had come all this way.
“You’re still here?”
“Hey! You still haven’t given me an answer!”
If you want to talk about who wants to leave the most right now—it was absolutely Director Shin.
Sure, it would’ve been nice to ask this over the phone, but Yoo Ji-ho had cut off all lines of communication during his entire vacation.
Even if the Gates were relatively calm at the moment, the fact that Yoo Ji-ho had managed to secure such a long vacation came with a lot of complications.
“Two days at the training center, reciting an oath—that’s all. Not a big deal, right? You’re going, aren’t you?”
“I thought it over a lot during my break, and… no matter how I look at it, I don’t see why I should. I’m going to decline.”
“Oh, come on! Don’t lie! You didn’t think for even a second, did you?”
“I thought about it for more than a second.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Yoo Ji-ho was the type of Esper who only cooperated when it came to direct Gate missions. Anything else, he considered a waste of time and saw no reason to participate.
Things like promotional shoots, public ceremonies, attending official events as the nation’s representative Esper—he’d only ever agreed to those after relentless begging from the Center.
Two years ago, convincing him to attend a new branch opening had taken so long, they had to delay the opening ceremony for six months after the actual branch launched. Only then did the public even realize the branch existed.
This was why the higher-ups always looked for a way to leverage Yoo Ji-ho’s influence.
Same story this time. There had been a surge in Gate activity around Jeju Island, prompting an expansion of the local branch and a recruitment drive for new ability users. They wanted Yoo Ji-ho to appear at the new recruit orientation—to send a message that the government was handling things swiftly and effectively.
“You ungrateful little brat. I bought you so many juices back in the day. Can’t you at least do this for me?”
Director Shin had already accepted the request, and he was getting desperate.
“I’m not feeling it. I’ve gotten really into this whole shut-in lifestyle.”
“No! No way! You can’t back out now!”
“……”
Why’s he whining like this? Yoo Ji-ho’s patience was starting to wear thin at Director Shin’s over-the-top groveling.
His face had turned dark and menacing—something no one had seen in days. But given the stakes, Director Shin couldn’t afford to back down.
“Just go, see the ocean, eat something nice. They asked for three days, but even a one-night stay is fine! Come on, I’m begging you here. You’ve been resting all vacation—just use this as an excuse!”
Director Shin had already shot his mouth off to the higher-ups and couldn’t walk it back now.
He’d tried negotiating the extended vacation as a compromise to get Yoo Ji-ho to agree. But all he got in return was a vague “I’ll think about it.” Nothing had changed.
“Hye-seong, come sit here.”
“Huh? Oh, okay.”
“Ugh, just—go or don’t! But I need a final answer by tomorrow!”
If Yoo Ji-ho kept dragging his feet, Director Shin was going to lose his damn mind trying to clean up the mess afterward.
Not that any of this mattered to Yoo Ji-ho. He completely ignored the shouting and placed Hye-seong on the armrest beside him, grabbing his hand and playing with it absently.
Hye-seong looked a little awkward, but that seemed to be because of Director Shin’s presence—not Yoo Ji-ho’s touch.
From where he sat across from them, Director Shin watched the peaceful scene unfold, eyes full of horror and disbelief. After a pause, he muttered vacantly:
“…Guess I could just take Hye-seong with us.”
It was a flash of genius.
“Huh? Me?”
“Hye-seong, how about a vacation on the government’s dime? Yoo Ji-ho’s coming too. You’ll get to see him stand up in front of everyone and say the oath. All dressed up in his uniform.”
“……”
Hye-seong blinked his wide eyes. Director Shin had come all this way to personally persuade Yoo Ji-ho to show up.
He turned to look at Yoo Ji-ho.
And for once, Yoo Ji-ho was actually watching him—gauging his reaction. Hoping, maybe, that Hye-seong would explain his thoughts.
But instead, Yoo Ji-ho asked:
“You want to come with me?”
“……”
Hye-seong nodded immediately. Even though he didn’t even know where they were going.
Director Shin’s tactic had worked. After all, Hye-seong had already made up his mind to follow him into a Gate. What place wouldn’t he go?
“All right. If you want to go, we’ll go.”
Yoo Ji-ho smiled and ruffled Hye-seong’s hair with both hands. Blushing, Hye-seong quietly accepted the gesture.
This actually worked?
Even after pulling it off, Director Shin couldn’t believe it. His eyes stared at the two of them like he was witnessing a ghost.
***
In front of the airport, as they transferred to the hotel car, Director Shin waved cheerfully.
“Hye-seong, let’s eat a ton of sashimi later, just you and me!”
“Okay! Sounds good!”
“…Haah.”
As the Director’s car drove off, the other two got into their own vehicle. Yoo Ji-ho had been feeling exhausted ever since hearing Director Shin was tagging along.
Meanwhile, beside him, Hye-seong gazed out the window, marveling at the scenery. It was his first time in Jeju Island.
“This is my first time in Jeju! I’m glad I got to come with you, Yoo Ji-ho!”
“We’re doing a lot of ‘firsts’ together.”
“Right!”
His excited tone made Yoo Ji-ho chuckle. For Hye-seong, just being out and about with Yoo Ji-ho was enough to feel surreal.
Back at the airport, when he’d mentioned it was his first time flying, Yoo Ji-ho had shamelessly teased him.
“You know the drill when getting on a plane, right?”
“Huh? What?”
“You have to take off your shoes.”
“C’mon, stop messing with me.”
It was a joke he’d heard before. Hye-seong had even stared back with rare confidence—until Yoo Ji-ho widened his eyes and said:
“It’s true. This is a Center-owned jet. It’s different from a regular plane.”
“……”
After that, Yoo Ji-ho turned away and didn’t say another word. Only when Hye-seong saw him board with his shoes still on did he finally relax enough to follow him.
Even after arriving at the hotel, Hye-seong was buzzing with excitement as he looked around their suite. It had a large living room and three separate bedrooms. Three!
“Which room should I take?”
Yoo Ji-ho, lounging in the living room, looked puzzled by the question.
“Why do we need to split up rooms?”
“……”
“We’ve been sleeping together this whole time.”
“Ah, about that… I think maybe we should start sleeping separately.”
Hesitating a bit, Hye-seong finally spoke up, like he’d made up his mind. Truthfully, it had been on his mind even before they arrived in Jeju.
“Why?”
“Well, I just thought it might be uncomfortable for you… And the bed’s kinda narrow…”
“I’ve seen you roll around in your sleep more times than I can count. What are you talking about?”
He was stunned into silence. To be fair, Yoo Ji-ho’s bed was pretty spacious.
“Still…”
Yoo Ji-ho fell silent and stared at him for a long moment before standing up.
“Use the room over there for now. We’ll talk about it after we go back.”
“…Okay.”
As he passed by, leaving him behind, Hye-seong stared at his back.
The air had gone cold, noticeably different from usual. Even Hye-seong, as dense as he could be, could tell the atmosphere had changed—maybe because he’d spoken so cautiously.
It was only a short conversation, but it felt like he’d just seen a completely unfamiliar side of Yoo Ji-ho.
