The instant Hyun Tae-oh laid eyes on him, Sung Moon-young—who had just about leapt back in shock—had no chance to explain before Tae-oh beat him nearly senseless.
What had set Tae-oh off was the sight of Kang Chi-yu’s clothes pushed up, with Moon-young’s hand reaching for his chest.
Losing control of his strength against a Guide rather than a fellow Esper was proof of just how enraged Tae-oh had been. The only reason Moon-young wasn’t dead was because Tae-oh had managed to cling to the thinnest shred of reason.
Moon-young ended up hospitalized in the Guide ward, while Chi-yu, upon waking, immediately found himself scolded by Tae-oh.
Since the fault was partly his own carelessness, Chi-yu could only apologize.
“Since he was a fellow Guide and a much younger junior, I never imagined he’d actually use an energy amplifier.”
“That’s exactly what I mean when I say you lack caution. What if I hadn’t made it in time?”
Tae-oh’s throat bobbed mid-sentence, the mere thought making him reel.
He muttered under his breath, turning away.
“I should’ve just killed that bastard….”
Chi-yu quickly grabbed his arm.
“I swear I’ll be more careful, okay?! I thought he was after you!”
Tae-oh froze mid-step, staring down at him with an expression that said, What the hell are you talking about?
At that moment, Sung Ji-yeol arrived.
He dropped the bombshell that Sung Moon-young was his cousin, leaving both Tae-oh and Chi-yu stunned.
“He didn’t mean to do anything bad. He just… wanted to take pictures.”
Apparently, Moon-young had always been the type to photograph whatever he liked and plaster his room with it. He also happened to be obsessed with old-style clothing.
“He wanted to dress up the animals—and Guide Kang Chi-yu—in the same outfits and take photos just to keep for himself.”
That explained why Catdog and Hayangi had been dressed in hanbok.
Ji-yeol bowed deeply, begging for leniency on his cousin’s behalf.
“Please, I beg you—don’t let this reach the Central Bureau or the Association!”
If Moon-young were disciplined, it would inevitably be reported. And that would tarnish Ji-yeol’s reputation, just when he was finally being seen in a positive light.
Having disbanded the Anti Club and now running a shelter for Ability Users, Ji-yeol had carefully rebuilt his image.
But if it came out that his cousin had drugged Kang Chi-yu with an illegal substance, tried to take compromising photos, and even paid Jeong Seong-gon to damage a Defensive Barrier in a mutant beast habitat, it would destroy him.
If the case went to the disciplinary committee, every one of Moon-young’s wrongdoings would be exposed—and Ji-yeol himself would face backlash for introducing him to Seong-gon.
Of course, Ji-yeol hadn’t imagined Moon-young would go that far, so technically his own guilt was minimal. But once public opinion started twisting things, facts hardly mattered.
“But if that was all, he could’ve just asked… why use a banned drug?”
“He said you wouldn’t wear the clothes if he just asked.”
Now that Chi-yu thought about it, he definitely wouldn’t have.
Catdog and Hayangi’s hanbok outfits were practically transparent. Curious, Chi-yu checked the outfit prepared for him—only to find it was just as sheer.
The jeogori and pants were so thin they were no better than wearing nothing at all.
The thought of Moon-young trying to photograph Chi-yu dressed like that set Tae-oh’s temper ablaze all over again.
Ji-yeol bowed once more.
“When Moon-young wakes up, I’ll make sure he apologizes. Please, just this once—let it go.”
“Forget the apology.”
Tae-oh’s voice was icy.
“Make him leave the Bureau, and promise he’ll never appear in front of me or Kang Chi-yu again. Then I’ll let it slide.”
It was essentially a demand for Moon-young to be cut off entirely, but there was no room for protest.
Moon-young had already committed crimes worthy of dismissal and prison: administering a forbidden drug and tampering with a Defensive Barrier in a mutant beast zone.
Ji-yeol nodded hard, swearing to take responsibility and remove Moon-young from their sight.
After he left, Chi-yu turned to Tae-oh again.
“I really am sorry.”
“Fine. Then later, you’ll do one thing I ask.”
“Huh? What is it?”
“Anything. Or do you not want to?”
“…It’s not that I don’t want to, but I should know what it is….”
“Just thinking about it still makes my heart race.”
“…Alright.”
“You’ll do it?”
“I’ll do it.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
Chi-yu nodded firmly.
A satisfied smile tugged at Tae-oh’s lips.
And a few days later, fresh from a shower, Chi-yu saw Tae-oh’s neatly folded uniform shirt and jacket laid out on the bed—and realized what Tae-oh’s “one thing” had been.
***
With the Sung Moon-young incident behind them, peace returned.
Tae-oh’s human-contact aversion had improved so much that he now met weekly with Min Yu-hyun’s couple and Lee Jun-hyung’s couple.
He still kept his distance from most people, but that was only a blessing for Chi-yu.
Not long ago, a new female Guide had openly tried to court Tae-oh.
She was so popular she’d been dubbed the “idol” of Esper Academy. Like Yu-hyun in the past, her popularity had made her proud and arrogant.
She believed, just as Yu-hyun once had, that only SS-ranks were her equals—and thought it would be easy to steal Tae-oh from his “lowly” B-rank lover.
But Tae-oh’s cold wall of avoidance crushed her confidence completely.
No matter how determined she was, winning over someone who treated her as less than human was impossible.
And watching how drastically his demeanor changed when he was with Chi-yu, compared to anyone else, made it clear just how deeply he loved him.
From the beginning, Tae-oh had always conducted himself properly.
So Chi-yu finally decided to confess what he’d been holding back because of the Moon-young mess.
Still, the idea of some dramatic gesture felt embarrassing, so he brought it up casually over dinner.
“Tae-oh, let’s imprint.”
He said it as casually as How’s this side dish? Like it?—and Tae-oh’s spoon froze halfway to his soup. When he looked up, Chi-yu was calmly eating bean sprouts with his chopsticks.
“I want to imprint with you.”
Tae-oh’s throat bobbed. His hand with the spoon hovered motionless. Swallowing again, he finally spoke.
“…Is this a proposal?”
Chi-yu nodded, scooping up soup.
“Yeah. It’s a proposal.”
“Ha… you’re driving me insane, Kang Chi-yu.”
Covering his eyes with his hand, Tae-oh groaned.
Smiling at him, Chi-yu teased,
“You’re about to be tied to me for life. Think it over carefully—I’ll give you a day.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Do it now.”
Tae-oh cut him off instantly, his expression deadly serious.
“I’ve wanted this from the start.”
“Right. That’s why I want you to think one last time. Make sure you won’t regret being tied to me forever.”
“Will you regret it?”
“If I had even the slightest doubt, I wouldn’t be saying this. I’ve thought it through longer than you, and I’m certain.”
“So am I. And I’ve been certain far longer. I’ll never regret it. And I’ll make sure you don’t either.”
At his words, Chi-yu set down his spoon, smiling.
“Neither will I. I’m sure. Let’s imprint, Tae-oh.”
***
The world was in uproar over Hyun Tae-oh and Kang Chi-yu’s imprint contract.
The fact that it was between an SS-rank Esper and a B-rank Guide made it even more sensational.
At first, they had intended to imprint quietly. But since they became the very first to use Myung Jun-su’s newly developed telepathic imprinting ability, word spread instantly.
Before, imprints had been little different from Pair contracts, except that they allowed an Esper to teleport directly to their Guide without coordinates—even without Marking—and required less Guiding for the same effect. But this new telepathic function allowed them to connect anytime, anywhere, whenever they wished.
For lovers, it was perhaps the most perfect and essential ability an imprint could offer.
The fact that they could sever the link whenever they wanted was another major advantage.
Of course, since the function was newly developed, there were still details to refine, but for Tae-oh and Chi-yu, it was bound to be invaluable.
The media exploded with coverage—both about their imprint and about the new telepathic ability.
Min Yu-hyun and Yoon Do-jae were thrilled.
Yu-hyun told Do-jae that if they were still together in two years, they should imprint. Do-jae said one year would be enough.
Jun-hyung, having already suffered once from an imprint, remained skeptical, but Beom Do-il wasn’t disappointed.
They were happy without an imprint and confident they always would be. He didn’t want to burden Jun-hyung with that weight again after losing his first partner.
Of course, Do-il had no intention of dying first. But life was unpredictable, and he didn’t want to reopen Jun-hyung’s wounds by forcing the issue.
So while the world was swept up in imprint fever thanks to Tae-oh, Chi-yu, and Myung Jun-su, Do-il never even brought it up, respecting Jun-hyung’s wishes.
That caused a brief misunderstanding, but ultimately, they would continue living happily together without imprinting.
Meanwhile, Tae-oh and Chi-yu were overwhelmed by requests from the media.
So many wanted information about telepathic imprinting that they finally agreed to appear in their first and last interview—on Channel BGNK.
The interview was personally conducted by the channel director, a rare gesture of respect for their appearance.
It was simple, mostly clarifying what imprinting was and asking about Myung Jun-su’s telepathy.
Tae-oh stayed mostly silent, leaving Chi-yu to answer.
But at the very end, when asked for a closing remark, Tae-oh—who had so far done nothing but gaze at Chi-yu—finally spoke.
Placing his hand proudly on Chi-yu’s shoulder, he declared,
“Kang Chi-yu and I are imprinted.”
Chi-yu turned to the camera, smiling brilliantly.
“We imprinted.”
Everyone already knew, but it was their first time saying it publicly. The two exchanged a happy smile.
Watching them, the Channel BGNK director was struck with inspiration for PairBorn Season 4.
One year later, the teaser was released.
The title: We Imprinted.
—The End—
