“Oh my. Did someone touch over there?”
The instructor asked in a puzzled voice.
But there was no one who could answer that question now.
The noisy sounds of Guides returning after finishing lunch and taking their seats filled the room one by one. As the instructor prepared to resume the training session, they absentmindedly straightened the papers on the desk that somehow seemed slightly disturbed.
How many minutes passed?
Following the instructor’s movements, the massive auditorium gradually settled into silence.
It was then that a small laugh escaped from Ji Gwan-young, hidden behind the blackout curtain.
—Choi Tae-hoon, your heart’s beating insanely fast right now.
—…Please be quiet already!
Terrified the sound might somehow be heard outside, Tae-hoon lightly punched his Esper in the chest with a thump, thump.
Good god. He’d never expected the man to suddenly drag him in and hide together like this in that split-second moment. Thanks to that, Tae-hoon had become genuinely afraid people outside might hear the frantic pounding of his heart.
But the Esper, who surely knew exactly what state his lover was in, simply wore an unmistakably curved smile instead of his usual faint one, looking absurdly entertained.
The instructor’s voice could be heard standing right beyond the thick blackout curtain.
It felt far too close.
Tae-hoon hurriedly clamped both hands over his own mouth.
“Goodness. How many people disappeared now? Every break I give, one person runs away! Over there—the person who left behind their bag and phone and quietly vanished with just their body, who is that?”
The place the instructor pointed toward was none other than the seat belonging to Choi Tae-hoon, the protagonist of the most chaotic scandal currently shaking The Center.
Every Guide present knew whose seat it was, but none dared say his name out loud, their expressions turning oddly complicated instead.
Kim Kwonseok placed a coffee on Tae-hoon’s empty desk and found himself unexpectedly surprised.
He hadn’t seemed like the type who would quietly slip away like this.
Meanwhile, Choi Tae-hoon—who was hiding directly behind the instructor rather than escaping anywhere—instantly realized the mentioned seat was his and lowered his head.
The instructor’s clear voice continued.
“Alright. I’m sure everyone enjoyed their meal… so how about we wake ourselves up with a little chat? Anyone here currently dating their Pair?”
Ji Gwan-young lightly lifted the hand Tae-hoon had been using to cling to him. Bright red with embarrassment, Tae-hoon silently smacked his Pair again.
“Hm, fewer than I expected. At the Gyeonggi branch I visited last week, almost everyone except two people were either dating or married. Alright then, one question for those of you in relationships. Have you ever worried about this before?”
Soft laughter spread among the listening Guides.
Ji Gwan-young found himself oddly enjoying the mixture of those unfamiliar strangers’ laughter and the rapid heartbeat of the Guide in his arms.
It was the first moment in his life that he had ever viewed the happiness of complete strangers positively.
“Ah… does that person really love me? Or do they just love me because I’m a Guide?”
“……”
The instructor’s smooth voice sounded practiced, as though they had asked this exact question countless times before.
Yet despite how cliché the question was, the entire auditorium instantly fell deathly silent.
“Whew. The atmosphere suddenly got terrifying. Everyone, I’m a Guide too! A Guide!”
Ji Gwan-young half-ignored the instructor’s words as he traced the line of Tae-hoon’s face with his fingertips.
As the only Esper hidden within this space, he had clearly seen the exact expression his Pair made the moment that question was asked.
It looked as though some deeply hidden secret had been exposed, as though something inside him had suddenly dropped straight through the floor.
That unfamiliar expression seized Tae-hoon’s face completely—then vanished just as quickly.
“This icy atmosphere probably means everyone here has thought about this at least once somehow, right?”
At least once somehow.
Ji Gwan-young rolled the phrase around in his mind.
The instructor’s question was something he, as an Esper, had never once asked himself. No—more accurately, it was something he had never even been capable of imagining.
Does Choi Tae-hoon really love me? Or does he just love me because I’m an Esper?
He had never needed to ask himself such things.
Choi Tae-hoon was the only existence capable of perfectly fitting into the twisted, grinding machinery inside his mind whose sharpness had dulled day by day—and Ji Gwan-young had willingly entrusted his life to him because of it.
Looking back on it now, strangely willingly. Far too willingly.
But Tae-hoon would be different.
Was Choi Tae-hoon experiencing that “once” the instructor spoke of right now?
Ji Gwan-young watched the Guide who refused to look at him and quietly thought about it.
“Now then. Let me tell you all a story about someone.”
Only the instructor’s clear voice continued through the breathless auditorium.
“This person is a Guide. They meet a certain Esper, achieve a high matching rate, and become a Pair. Like many of you here, they become lovers. They even get married. Ah—but unfortunately, exactly one year into the marriage, their Pair matching rate suddenly starts dropping for unknown reasons.”
“……”
“The Center says there’s no choice but to match the Esper with a new Guide. Of course, this was such a rare case it could practically have been published in an academic paper.”
Sharp breaths were sucked in throughout the room.
The same was true for Choi Tae-hoon hiding behind the curtain.
Ji Gwan-young missed none of his Guide’s reactions, carefully taking in every single one.
“So then—what happened to that Pair? No, that married couple? I mean, this is basically the moment the strongest love filter in the world gets ripped away, isn’t it?”
Even without looking outside, it was obvious.
Whether they were dating their Pair or not, the Guides listening were shaken as though it were their own story.
Naturally so. Because as Guides, the fear had now taken root that this could happen to any of them someday.
But just as the atmosphere threatened to grow heavy, the instructor’s suddenly cheerful voice completely shifted the mood.
“Ta-da! Actually, this is my story and my husband’s!”
Tae-hoon’s eyes flew wide open. Without realizing it, he even turned toward the unseen instructor.
“Every time my husband goes to meet his Guide, he heads to The Center looking like the most miserable person alive. Seriously, anyone watching would think he was being dragged off to slaughter. So I asked him why, and he said he hates spending all day stuck to some huge distracted guy with a beer belly and a beard when he has a beautiful wife like me waiting at home. He says he even gets goosebumps whenever they hug.”
“Hahaha!”
“Actually, in a later matching test, the highest result he got was with another woman… but apparently he refused outright because he wanted to stay loyal. Isn’t that cute? Well, I certainly liked hearing it. Honestly, another woman would’ve been a bit much, right? Right?”
Laughter broke out throughout the room.
The sound of the instructor drinking a few sips of water echoed out.
Then their unseen voice rang clearly across the auditorium.
“If you truly love the Esper you’re with right now… try trusting them at least once.”
“…….”
“Just like we came to love those people for no particular reason at all… they’re loving us that same way too.”
Choi Tae-hoon had always wondered.
Why had he fallen for Ji Gwan-young of all people? Since when had his eyes begun chasing after that man?
But the refreshing voice from beyond the curtain offered an incredibly simple answer.
For no particular reason at all.
Come to think of it, that really was true.
If a Guide holding an Esper’s lifeline was a kind of power, then the thing an Esper gained after capturing a Guide’s heart was the desperate longing for affection that could disappear at any moment.
That was a secret belonging only to Guides—something Espers could never understand.
Without realizing it, Tae-hoon looked first toward the man close enough that their breaths brushed against each other.
As though he had been waiting for that gaze, Ji Gwan-young’s eyes curved softly.
The slowly approaching face felt strangely unreal.
Their gently brushing lips carried the innocent sweetness of children’s play, but in exchange, each brief separation of breath let them mingle their gazes together.
Ji Gwan-young placed a small kiss on the bridge of his Guide’s nose before leaning close to the ear that was still flushed red and whispering quietly.
—I’m not interested in some huge distracted guy with a beer belly and a beard either, so cut me some slack, Choi Tae-hoon.
A louder laugh burst from Tae-hoon’s mouth.
Shocked by the sound he’d made, Tae-hoon quickly covered his lips, but it was impossible to completely stop the little giggles still leaking out.
Ji Gwan-young seemed unable to resist that dangerously close laughter. He pulled Tae-hoon’s hand away and covered the Guide’s slightly parted lips with his own.
Their soft tongues tangled together, deepening greedily as though even a single lost breath would be too precious to waste.
It was sweeter than any kiss they had shared before.
Tae-hoon wrapped an arm around his lover’s neck and stroked the soft flesh beneath his beautifully shaped ear.
And then—the second sound that absolutely should not have existed in this space reached Choi Tae-hoon’s ears.
“……”
“……”
“Goodness, whose phone is this?”
The ringtone was so dry and emotionless it was painfully, unmistakably Ji Gwan-young-like.
The moment Tae-hoon recognized the vibration and sound, he froze completely like a statue. Even Ji Gwan-young, uncharacteristically startled, stopped moving for several seconds.
Murmurs erupted from every direction.
Unfortunately, Ji Gwan-young could hear every single word clearly.
“Where’s that sound coming from?”
“Over there maybe?”
Quietly, Gwan-young pulled the phone from inside the pocket of his thin cardigan.
Manager.
The three neat syllables glowed on the screen.
Naturally, the instant he saw it, he immediately powered the phone off.
But Choi Tae-hoon remained frozen solid, as though he had forgotten how to breathe, while whispers still filled the auditorium.
Most importantly, someone was approaching closer and closer toward the curtain in search of the sound’s source…
Ji Gwan-young frowned slightly, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again.
“…Hhk.”
Someone sharply sucked in a breath.
In an instant, every voice in the room fell silent.
The Esper who had dragged the massive auditorium into complete silence was someone every person present recognized.
Wearing the dazzling smile he was famous for, Ji Gwan-young gave a light bow. But no one here was currently in any state to properly return the greeting.
Even the instructor, who had spoken so fluently moments ago, simply stared blankly at him with a stunned face.
In the deadly silence, the top star of South Korea—looking as though he had just stepped out of a drama that aired only days ago—finally spoke.
“I apologize for interrupting such an informative session.”
It was a voice capable of leaving even the Guides who had quietly heard negative rumors about “Esper Ji Gwan-young” completely spellbound.
Still smiling leisurely, he continued politely.
Right now, he was not Esper Ji Gwan-young. Just as he appeared now, he was merely actor Ji Gwan-young.
“I ended up greeting you all under somewhat inappropriate circumstances. It wasn’t intentional. I simply forgot to turn my phone off.”
“…..Uh, uh. Ji—Ji Gwan-young?”
“Haha. Yes.”
Ji Gwan-young answered calmly at the instructor’s stammering question.
“I truly apologize again for interrupting. Whew… yes. I’ll leave quietly now. Very quietly.”
“……Y-yes…….”
One of Ji Gwan-young’s arms remained strangely hidden behind the blackout curtain.
Because his lover was stubbornly resisting with all his might, beating him mercilessly as though absolutely refusing to be dragged out.
Still smiling pleasantly, Ji Gwan-young hauled Choi Tae-hoon out anyway.
No matter how desperately Tae-hoon struggled, to an Esper like him, it was hardly anything.
The moment the identity of the person hidden behind the curtain together with that top star Ji Gwan-young was revealed, someone somewhere let out a strangled gasp.
The instant he heard it, Tae-hoon lowered his head deeply like a criminal and covered his face with one hand.
His face had gone beyond merely red—it looked ready to explode from how violently flushed it was.
“Oh, and.”
As though suddenly remembering something, the Esper added with a bright smile.
“Listening from backstage, it really was an excellent lecture. Thank you for your hard work.”
