Back at the dorm, the two shared a pizza while chatting casually about their day. Do In-ho mentioned he was currently investigating a civilian suspected of being an Esper alongside Nam Woon-soo.
“What exactly do you mean by someone suspected of being an Esper?”
“It refers to someone who’s completed their first manifestation but hasn’t yet been officially registered as an Esper. When the second manifestation begins, that’s when they get flagged.”
“Manifestation?”
“Anyone with superior physical abilities compared to the average person is considered to have undergone the first manifestation. Of course, they could just be an unusually fit person, but if they also recover from injuries abnormally fast and possess excessive physical strength, they’re likely to hit the second manifestation soon.”
“So what’s the second manifestation?”
“That’s the awakening of their ability. Generally, Espers can control their abilities, but during the second manifestation, they start using them involuntarily, without conscious intent.”
Even though he was an Esper himself, Do In-ho spoke about it as though it had nothing to do with him, just relaying information like an outsider.
“Once we’ve narrowed down the candidates headed for second manifestation, we’ll probably work with the HR Department.”
“Sounds like your job in PR gets you dealing with a bunch of departments.”
Just as he finished chewing on the last slice and licking the sauce from his fingers, something came to mind for Ho-eun. He wiped his hands and pulled out his laptop.
“Time to do what I learned today. The Esper checklist.”
Opening the checklist form, Ho-eun checked his guide watch. He noted Do In-ho’s guiding metrics and began carefully filling in the blank sections.
[Dependency Status]
When he reached the final box, Ho-eun paused. The form required entering a number from 1 to 5—higher numbers meant more severe dependency. His fingers hovered uncertainly above the keyboard, paralyzed mid-air.
Unable to bring himself to type anything, Ho-eun quietly closed the laptop.
“…?”
Do In-ho, who had been cleaning up, caught Ho-eun staring. As if sensing the gaze, his eyes, which had been elsewhere, met Ho-eun’s. His slightly raised brow seemed to ask, What’s wrong? Ho-eun just shrugged, pretending it was nothing, and helped with the tidying.
***
Maybe it was because he hadn’t used his body like this in a while, but Ho-eun ached all over. He took a quick shower and began drawing a bath. Inside the vanity cabinet, he found some bath additives—probably something Do In-ho had bought. The water was soon infused with a fragrant floral scent.
“Haah.”
As he slid into the tub, a satisfied sigh escaped before he even realized it. Ho-eun closed his eyes. The sound of the bathroom fan and the dripping faucet seemed unusually loud in the dim lighting.
“…Dependency, huh.”
Slowly opening his eyes again, the bathroom lights stabbed at his vision. Squinting against the brightness, he stirred the water with one hand, watching it ripple around him.
What does a Guide really mean to an Esper?
There was a time when Ho-eun, just because he was a Guide, tried to act like some kind of god. Looking back on it now made him want to curl up in shame for the next decade.
A Guide is, without question, not a god. They might be able to help suffering Espers, but that’s not some divine act. The one who had taught him that was none other than Do In-ho.
“I want to die.”
Just recalling those words made his heart drop. Everything about that moment came back in vivid detail, as if he were right there again. Back then, Do In-ho had said it with a detached expression, like someone who saw no value in himself unless he left behind a crystal.
“There was a time like that, huh.”
Thinking back, it was clear: Do In-ho hadn’t been the kind of Esper who formed dependencies on Guides. Even when they’d stuck together during practice, he’d been the same.
But now…?
Knock knock.
“Ho-eun hyung? Everything okay in there?”
“Oh, uh, yeah! I’m just soaking a bit!”
He’d been in the bathroom longer than usual, prompting concern from the other side of the door. Ho-eun replied quickly. Had he hesitated even for a second, the doorknob—which had already turned slightly—might’ve gone all the way.
“…Yup, definitely.”
A bit overprotective, maybe? If you were to rank it, it’d probably be level 2. Then again, when judging Espers instead of regular people, the criteria could be hazy.
In Ho-eun’s case, he wasn’t just any Guide—he was the one who saved an Esper on the verge of dying from Ability Overload.
That incident had opened Do In-ho’s closed heart. Whatever thoughts he had now, at least he wasn’t waiting around for his own meltdown anymore.
Lately, Do In-ho didn’t even seem like the same gloomy guy from back then. He looked like someone who had a firm will to live. Maybe he’d found a different kind of worth—something besides being a crystal.
“Guess I should get out.”
The steam-filled bathroom was starting to feel suffocating. After drying off and changing into pajamas, Ho-eun stepped out to find Do In-ho, already ready for bed, waiting for him with a towel.
“My hair’ll dry on its own.”
As usual, Ho-eun hadn’t dried his hair. But Do In-ho just pulled him gently into his large embrace.
“It’s chilly at night now. You’ll catch a cold.”
Despite Ho-eun’s protests, Do In-ho was insistent. After patting his hair with the towel, he fetched a hairdryer and gently dried every last bit of moisture from Ho-eun’s hair.
“You’re gonna make someone really happy someday when you’re dating.”
“Dating?”
Do In-ho’s hand, which had been brushing through his hair so tenderly, suddenly paused.
“Yeah. You’re super sweet.”
“…Don’t know about that.”
The hairdryer clicked off. Ho-eun ran a hand through his now-warm hair and flopped onto the bed. Do In-ho returned the dryer to its place and lay down beside him.
“Why’d you bring up dating all of a sudden?”
“Oh. Someone talked about Imprinting today. Apparently, it’s something that usually happens between Espers and Guides in romantic relationships.”
Besides the small orange lamp on the nightstand, the room was dark. Staring up at the ceiling, painted in that soft hue, Ho-eun collected his thoughts.
He’d prevented Do In-ho from going into Overload. He’d even said he’d take responsibility for him. But that responsibility was as a Guide—and as a partner. The role of a lover or an Imprinted wasn’t meant for him.
“Who knows when the right person’ll show up.”
Feelings were such strange things. If he could pry open his own heart and peek inside, Ho-eun probably would’ve done it by now.
He’d liked it—when Do In-ho got possessive and pouted earlier, afraid of losing him. It wasn’t just that. Ever since that deeper guiding session, Ho-eun couldn’t stop thinking about him.
The urge to take care of Do In-ho was still there. Ho-eun intended to fulfill his role as a Guide to the best of his ability, helping Do In-ho live properly. Maybe other Guides had avoided him because of that “walking time bomb” reputation, but if Ho-eun kept guiding him steadily, that image might change.
And once it did… someone better than D-Class Guide Kwon Ho-eun would probably end up at his side. After all, Espers tended to prefer higher-ranked Guides.
“I don’t need anyone else.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t want anyone else but you, hyung.”
With a voice cold enough to draw frost, Do In-ho pulled Ho-eun into his arms, away from the ceiling he’d been staring at. Caught in his arms, Ho-eun turned slightly, facing those anxious, glowing yellow eyes. They shimmered, unstable—on the verge of unraveling.
“…Yeah.”
For now, he thought, but didn’t say it out loud. Resting his forehead against Do In-ho’s firm chest, he exhaled slowly.
It was only because he had saved Do In-ho from Overload. Eventually, after meeting more Guides, he’d probably forget he ever said such a thing.
“I’ll never need anyone else. Not for the rest of my life.”
The words, whispered damp and low right beside his ear, made Ho-eun chuckle. A kid barely twenty talking about ‘the rest of his life’—it was kind of cute. And… it was a little satisfying, too. He hated how that contradiction made his chest twist.
Ho-eun reached out and patted Do In-ho’s back, murmuring that he understood. His body, heavy with sleep, was ready to pass out at any moment.
Ah… I need to get up and log this as dependency level 2…
But before he could, he sank into the sheets—into deep, uninterrupted sleep.
“Hyung…”
Ho-eun’s sleeping face was peaceful, breathing steady. Despite being the one who’d twisted someone else’s expression into knots.
“…Liar.”
The words, sticky and dark, trembled faintly with betrayal.
“You said you’d take responsibility.”
Do In-ho raised a hand, brushing lightly over Ho-eun’s thick lips. The soft skin looked so fragile, like even the slightest pressure might hurt him. But it wasn’t just the lips—Kwon Ho-eun himself was like that. Do In-ho had no choice but to handle him carefully, as if he’d shatter from a wrong touch.
“Don’t pretend to let me go just so you can throw me away.”
Under the deepening night, Do In-ho’s voice poured out like a love confession. His cheeks were faintly flushed, and the way he looked at Ho-eun—so tender, so full—left no room for doubt.
“As long as I have you, I don’t need anything else.”
Moonlight streamed in through the window, casting its glow on the two of them. Do In-ho leaned down slowly. The sweet scent between them intensified. He stopped halfway. Then, with a stolen kiss on Ho-eun’s sleeping lips, his mind went hazy.
***
The smell of something delicious hit his nose, and Ho-eun’s stomach growled in response. He forced open his heavy eyelids.
Even if he had worked his body hard yesterday, he usually didn’t feel this sluggish. Yawning wide, he slowly sat up in bed.
His calves felt sore and stiff. Was this what aging at 25 felt like? The damage from the day before hadn’t vanished—his legs were still paying the price. Ho-eun massaged his calves, switching between them.
“Hyung, you’re up?”
The door opened, and a fresh-faced Do In-ho greeted him. Ho-eun nodded as he continued rubbing his legs.
“Yeah. Why does the weekend feel so far away… I’m tired.”
“Your legs hurt?”
“I guess I overdid it yesterday. It’ll pass.”
As Ho-eun tried to get up, Do In-ho strode over and scooped him up effortlessly. Suddenly cradled in a full-on princess carry first thing in the morning, Ho-eun stared at him, stunned. But Do In-ho didn’t even flinch—he calmly carried him over and set him down on a chair at the dining table.
“W-What the heck?”
“You said your legs hurt.”
“Not that bad!”
If the Esper checklist had a category for overprotection, he’d be putting in a solid 5 right now. Ho-eun blushed furiously, flustered beyond words. Do In-ho just chuckled at the sight.
“I just felt like doing it.”
It was the first time Ho-eun had seen him smile with his eyes and mouth at the same time. Thump, thump. That smile was dangerous for his heart. Ho-eun quickly turned away before he could fall any deeper.
