After finishing his shower, Hyun Tae-oh blinked slowly at the delicious smell wafting through the air, tickling his nose.
The clattering sounds coming from the kitchen lifted his mood.
When Kang Chi-yu used to live next door, scenes like this had been a natural part of everyday life. So now, encountering it again after more than two weeks stirred a tender sense of nostalgia, even a little emotional. His heart felt strangely warm and full.
As expected, it felt better when Kang Chi-yu was by his side.
Always. Constantly. As if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Drying his damp hair with a towel, he made his way to the kitchen.
Kang Chi-yu stood at the sink like it was second nature, busily preparing dinner.
Tae-oh had liked Chi-yu’s cooking since he was quite young—Chi-yu was pretty skilled in the kitchen.
Truth be told, it was mostly because Tae-oh’s parents were notoriously bad cooks that he came to like Chi-yu’s food so much in the first place.
“What’s this?”
Sliding a chair out and sitting down at the table, Tae-oh asked. As he did, Chi-yu, who had just lifted the lid off the boiling pot with a ladle in hand, turned to look at him.
“Seaweed Soup.”
It was Tae-oh’s favorite kind of soup—he always preferred Korean food over Chinese or Western cuisine.
“Mm.”
The corners of Tae-oh’s lips lifted slightly at the fact that Chi-yu had made the soup he liked.
“But the fridge was full of nothing but drinks. How’ve you even been eating till now?”
“Now you’re curious about that?”
Tae-oh casually threw his towel over the back of the chair as he replied indifferently.
Chi-yu, feeling oddly embarrassed, turned back around and stirred the soup with the ladle, asking,
“What’s with all those drinks, anyway? You don’t even drink them.”
“You do.”
The hand stirring the soup paused for a moment.
Tae-oh, resting his chin on the table with one hand, continued, watching Chi-yu.
“So, how was it—those two weeks you abandoned me and ran off?”
His sulky tone made it easy to imagine the expression on his face, even without looking.
“You really haven’t changed, still holding grudges.”
Chi-yu muttered like he was talking to himself, his lips twitching into a long, crooked smile.
But then suddenly, a sour memory surfaced in his mind and wiped the smile clean off his face.
Min Yu-hyun, leaving this house.
If he hadn’t run into Min Yu-hyun coming out of Tae-oh’s house that evening, he probably would’ve brushed off the dating rumors as nothing serious.
If it had been someone else, he might’ve thought, “So what if someone came out of his house? There could be a reason for it.” But if it was Hyun Tae-oh—someone practically afflicted with clinical-level germophobia—that changed everything.
He had always believed that the only person who could be inside Tae-oh’s space, sharing meals, talking comfortably, and simply coexisting without making him feel uneasy… was himself.
Wasn’t it Tae-oh who, at the start of his tenure at the Central Bureau, had insisted that only Chi-yu could guide him?
It wasn’t until he faced disciplinary action for refusing guidance sessions that Tae-oh finally gave in and started tolerating the recommended 30-minute guidance time. Even then, because of his aversion to physical contact, the frequency of sessions was reduced and replaced with suppressants.
Still, that was the kind of person Hyun Tae-oh was.
So for someone else to now exist in that same space—someone he could be comfortable with—Chi-yu couldn’t help but feel like his own place beside Tae-oh was no longer secure.
“Seriously, is something going on with you lately?”
Coming to grab the utensils, Tae-oh caught the troubled expression on Chi-yu’s face and asked with slight concern.
Chi-yu quickly smoothed out his features and handed him the utensils he’d already taken out.
“No.”
Turning back, he ladled out the soup and placed it on the table, then started scooping rice while keeping a calm expression with effort.
Tae-oh helped set the table with the spoons and cups, occasionally glancing at Chi-yu’s face, his own filled with subtle curiosity.
Even as they sat side by side at the table, that look of puzzlement never left Tae-oh’s face. He continued observing Chi-yu until he lifted his spoon, and Chi-yu, feeling his gaze, tried his best to maintain a composed mask throughout the entire meal.
Maybe that’s why.
Maybe that’s why this meal, the first one they’d shared in two weeks, felt so painfully awkward and strained.
“So, are you going to do it?”
Trying to break the tension, Tae-oh spoke.
“…Huh?”
“The show.”
“Oh.”
“If you do it, I’ll do it too.”
“…You sure about that?”
“What, the show?”
“I said, if you do it, I’ll do it.”
“You used to hate even having a camera pointed at you. And now you’re saying you’ll be on a show?”
“……”
“Did something… get better? Like, are you okay with it now?”
If—just if—all of his mysophobia had miraculously disappeared like a lie, then it would make sense that he brought Min Yu-hyun to his home.
Of course, that couldn’t possibly be true. But still, if by some off chance he really had gotten over it—
“I still hate it. Hate it enough to be annoyed.”
But Tae-oh’s words crushed that fragile possibility without mercy, and the little flicker of hope fluttering in Chi-yu’s heart sank like a stone.
“…Then why are you doing it…? Don’t tell me, the Esper Department Head…”
He was about to ask if maybe Tae-oh had been blackmailed—but closed his mouth before finishing.
Tae-oh wasn’t the kind of person who would respond to threats, and more than anyone, Chi-yu knew that the Esper Department Head at the Central Bureau wasn’t the type bold enough to try coercing the country’s only SS-rank Esper.
He’d been practically begging back during the Guiding refusal incident, scared to death that Tae-oh might leave the Bureau for the Association—or worse, another country.
“What about the Department Head?”
“It’s nothing.”
Chi-yu shook his head a few times, and Tae-oh looked at him with slight confusion.
Ignoring that gaze, Chi-yu continued.
“Anyway. Then why the hell did you agree to it? You got all stiff just over a simple interview before.”
“……”
“They’re going to be filming you 24/7. You’ll even have to wear a body cam. You know that. Why the hell would you agree to a show like that, of all things?”
Tae-oh sat there chewing silently for a while at Chi-yu’s question before finally forcing down a mouthful of rice and speaking.
“Just because.”
Just because.
Of all the things to say just because about, this was the one that made the least sense.
Chi-yu’s brows furrowed.
He didn’t even know where to begin pointing out how ridiculous that was.
His face twisted into one of frustrated disbelief.
“If you’re bored, go play with Min Yu-hyun. Why are you dragging me into your boredom?”
At that, Tae-oh’s smooth forehead wrinkled sharply.
“Why the hell do you keep bringing up Min Yu-hyun, over and over? It’s annoying.”
The word annoying made Chi-yu’s heart plummet.
Maybe Tae-oh hated hearing someone else’s name come out of someone else’s mouth—especially if that someone was potentially a romantic partner.
After all, Tae-oh had always been the type to be obsessively possessive over what was his. He even showed that possessiveness toward Chi-yu as a friend—so what would it be like for someone he actually liked?
Chi-yu swallowed hard and tried to smooth over the awkwardness with an excuse that wasn’t quite an excuse.
“I mean… I just heard the production team thought Min Yu-hyun would be your Pair Guide…”
“So you think it’d be better if I paired with Min Yu-hyun?”
That question stabbed right into his already sunken heart, and Chi-yu had to swallow down another dry gulp.
“No, it’s not that… I just…”
“I said, if it’s you, I don’t mind being on some lame-ass reality show.”
“It’s not a lame-ass show—it’s an observation reality program. And the viewers all want to see you with Min Yu-hyun. Honestly, Min Yu-hyun’s Guiding is way more effective than mine, right? And besides, you two have been getting pretty close lately…”
“What the hell kind of bullshit is that?”
Tae-oh cut him off immediately, his face twisting with annoyance.
Chi-yu started to protest but pressed his lips shut.
He’d briefly considered the idea that maybe Tae-oh had asked him to step in just to protect Min Yu-hyun. If that were the case, he could’ve just explained the situation and asked for help—especially from a friend.
But then again, knowing Tae-oh, no matter how close they were, he wouldn’t want to expose his personal life like that.
Even though they’d been friends for decades, Tae-oh had never once shared personal details.
Chi-yu didn’t even know what Tae-oh’s type was—not after all this time.
So yeah, it made sense.
No matter how close they were, talking about someone he might—or might not—be dating was probably off-limits.
In the end, what really stopped him from digging deeper was the fear of eventually learning the whole truth.
“…So are you really planning to do it?”
“Are you going to do it?”
Tae-oh tossed the responsibility back at him, and Chi-yu hesitated.
He’d come here intending to refuse—but pride and jealousy twisted his words into a lie.
“Honestly, I’ve got no reason to say no. The pay’s good, and there are perks afterward, too.”
He couldn’t deny there was a part of him that wanted to say, What if I really do say yes? Then what?
“Then do it.”
But Tae-oh crushed that tiny flicker of pride like it was nothing.
“Are you really okay with this?”
“How many times do I have to say it? I told you—if you do it, I’ll do it too.”
At Hyun Tae-oh’s words, Kang Chi-yu pressed his lips tightly together.
“The future of the Central Bureau rests in your hands! Please, I’m begging you—help us!”
“If this goes well, I’ll find a way to get you an extra full year of paid vacation on top of the one PairBorn gives!”
For some reason, the image of the Guide Department Head clutching his hands and pleading popped into his head out of nowhere.
***
“For the next week, you’ll be living at Esper Hyun Tae-oh’s residence.”
As a staff member attached a tiny mic to Chi-yu’s collar, she continued speaking.
“Don’t worry about the cameras or mics—just go about your day like usual. When you enter the Gate, we’ll give you a different cam setup for that. It’s super lightweight, so it won’t get in the way or interfere with combat.”
“Ah, okay…”
“Alright, we’ll do one final check and then start with the interview. Hair!”
When the staff member shouted toward the group gathered in the living room, a short-haired woman—probably the stylist—responded with an enthusiastic “Got it!” and rushed over to Chi-yu.
As she adjusted his outfit and smoothed his hair, she began gushing over his skin.
“Guide Kang Chi-yu, how do you have such perfect skin? I mean, most Guides have great skin because of that… resonance stabilization energy or whatever, but yours is exceptionally flawless.”
“Ah, thank you…”
“And you’re soooo handsome! I know Esper Hyun Tae-oh is, like, on another level of ridiculously good-looking, so I’m worried he might overshadow you a bit, but seriously, you’re absolutely stunning. I bet you’ll be super popular once the show airs. Can I get your autograph ahead of time?”
Her high-pitched, cheerful tone made it a little easier to relax.
Chi-yu gave her a small nod and replied softly, “Sure. Thank you.”
“Guide Kang Chi-yu, all set!”
The stylist shouted toward the crew adjusting the camera for the interview, then turned back to Chi-yu, clenching both fists with a cheerful “Fighting!” gesture.
Chi-yu found her cute and couldn’t help smiling, his eyes crinkling.
He could feel her face instantly flush red, but there was no time to worry about that—he was immediately ushered over to sit in front of a massive camera.
“We’ll begin the interview now. Just relax and answer naturally as best you can.”
“…Alright.”
As Chi-yu nodded, the person who seemed to be the director held up a script and offered a formal greeting before launching into the questions.
