The premiere of Season 2 finally aired.
The first episode captured everything from the partner selection to the game where they had to find more of their partner’s dolls. As expected, it was met with an outpouring of viewer love and generated a flood of articles.
After the broadcast, the cast’s names completely dominated the real-time search rankings on portal sites.
With Hyun Tae-oh publicly confessing to Kang Chi-yu and Yoon Do-jae making his sweet, straightforward advances, A Pair is Born had, almost unintentionally, transformed from a survival reality show into a dating program. Either way, it was a massive hit.
When the production team saw that Part 1 had strayed entirely into romance, they announced that the second round of partners would be chosen by the staff.
Since Finding My Pair had already leaned toward a dating-show vibe, they decided to let Part 1 embrace that tone, while shifting Part 2 back toward its original strength: gritty, reality-driven storytelling.
This way, they could quiet critics who claimed it was a waste of Ability Users, while giving long-time reality fans something fresh and offering those who disliked harsh reality TV a lighter, more entertaining twist.
Originally, Part 1 had been conceived to dig deeper into the reality aspect, showing how Ability Users actually chose their Pairs.
But somewhere along the way, the concept drifted. And yet, the result was unexpectedly perfect—it was as if they had caught two rabbits at once.
***
When the cast received their assigned second partners, their expressions shifted in all directions.
The new pairs were: Hyun Tae-oh with Kang Chi-yu, Beom Do-il with Lee Jun-hyung, and Yoon Do-jae with Min Yu-hyun.
Tae-oh and Do-il couldn’t hide their joy. Do-jae’s face remained composed, but the fatigue beneath was clear.
It didn’t really matter to him who the next partner was—but truthfully, Jun-hyung would’ve been easier. He was already straining himself, pretending to be fine after being rejected by Kang Chi-yu, and it was exhausting.
He’d worked with Min Yu-hyun a few times during Emergency Assemblies and quickly realized they were incompatible.
Yu-hyun was the kind of person who drained others emotionally, and his tendency to issue orders from behind made working with him unbearably tiring.
Do-jae wasn’t surprised by the assignment—it was bound to happen eventually—but he still thought Jun-hyung would’ve made for a far less demanding second round.
Yu-hyun, however, didn’t care who his new partner was. His mind was consumed by only one thing: Beom Do-il, who had rejected him outright.
For the first time in his life, he had tried seducing someone—only to be refused.
And not just by anyone, but by some A-rank Esper. Sure, it had been a half-joking, drunken advance, but he hadn’t expected to be turned down so bluntly.
It wasn’t just his pride that had been hurt. The real issue was that, apart from Hyun Tae-oh, Do-il was the first person Yu-hyun had ever genuinely wanted to pursue.
Normally, he would never even look at an A-rank Esper. Outside of this show, Do-il was a second-stringer who would never have had the chance to receive Guiding from him.
For someone like that to reject him was unthinkable.
Especially after Yu-hyun had bared himself in front of an Esper for the very first time.
Of course, feelings weren’t uniform—but Espers instinctively sought out the better Guide.
It was survival itself, an inborn instinct.
For Do-il to defy that and choose an A-rank Guide over an S-rank was a staggering blow to Yu-hyun.
That shock, mingled with the sting of rejection, only deepened his unease and desperation, turning Do-il into someone extraordinary in his eyes.
The unrelenting desire for what he couldn’t have. The unbearable humiliation of being rejected. And the desperate, consuming need to claim him at any cost.
Yu-hyun fixed his eyes on Do-il, who was chattering happily to Jun-hyung.
The way Do-il seemed to shine more brightly than ever—that was the outcome of all those tangled emotions.
Noticing Yu-hyun’s blatant stare, Jun-hyung lowered his voice so only Do-il could hear.
“Hey… what did you do to Guide Min Yu-hyun?”
Do-il jumped in shock.
“What!? Nothing! I didn’t do anything!?”
He shook his head so hard it looked like it might fall off, panic flashing across his face—like a child afraid of being caught for mischief. Jun-hyung narrowed his eyes.
“Uh, maybe… we should head back to work?”
Do-il reached out a hand toward him.
Not wanting to dig further in front of Yu-hyun, Jun-hyung quietly took it.
In an instant, Do-il teleported them away, their camera directors following to their assigned zones.
Even after Do-il vanished, Yu-hyun’s eyes stayed locked on the empty spot.
Do-jae ignored him, continuing to review his tasks. After a long silence, Yu-hyun suddenly looked up and asked:
“Esper Yoon Do-jae, what zone are you stationed in?”
“P-03 Subzone.”
“That’s right next to Beom Do-il’s zone, isn’t it?”
“……”
“I just had a really good idea.”
Yu-hyun turned to his camera director.
The director immediately connected a video call to the Production Director, and the moment the man appeared on screen, Yu-hyun spoke.
“Director. Let’s add a joint mission for this shoot.”
—A joint mission?
“Between Beom Do-il’s team and ours. Something all four of us can do together, framed as teamwork-building. What do you think?”
—Oh, that’s clever. But in that case, wouldn’t all six need to—
“Not Hyun Tae-oh. That guy doesn’t even know what joint means.”
—Ah, I see.
“I’ll contact the Central Bureau myself and arrange the assignment. Just float the idea casually to Do-il’s side.”
—Understood. I’ll handle it.
The Production Director thanked Yu-hyun for being so invested, and Yu-hyun laughed it off, saying it was only natural to care about the success of a show he was on.
Do-jae watched him with a puzzled expression.
As Yu-hyun contacted the Bureau Chief and went out of his way to manufacture an unnecessary mission, Do-jae found himself wondering in disbelief: was Min Yu-hyun really this serious about the show?
***
Hyun Tae-oh, now paired with Kang Chi-yu, was in the best shape he’d ever been.
Chi-yu couldn’t understand why he seemed so giddy, but he kept bursting into laughter whenever Tae-oh did something ridiculous while fighting mutant beasts.
Like this, for example:
“You. I’ll let you off, ’cause that little bump under your nose is kinda cute.”
Tae-oh flicked a finger toward a beast asleep under Sleep. In the same instant, he detonated the one beside it, then turned a piercing stare on another still bound in Immobilization.
Sweat rolled down its forehead. It shouldn’t have understood a word, yet its trembling pupils made it look like it did.
As Tae-oh opened his mouth, cold sweat streamed down its face comically fast, just like in a manga.
Chi-yu couldn’t hold back—he burst into a laugh.
Tae-oh tilted his head toward him and grinned back. To anyone watching, they would’ve looked like fools.
“Pass. ’Cause you made Chi-yu laugh.”
The beast actually exhaled in relief.
“Almost feels like it really understands you,” Chi-yu murmured.
The beast darted its eyes toward the sky, pretending to be distracted.
“If they really understood, they’d regulate their numbers themselves and save us the hassle. Breeding might be instinct, but there should be a limit. They’re worse than cockroaches—if left alone, they’d multiply until the world burst at the seams.”
Muttering in irritation, Tae-oh casually detonated several more beasts under Sleep and Immobilization.
From the beasts’ perspective, it was a slaughter. But everyone knew it was a necessity—without it, humanity wouldn’t survive their unchecked breeding.
After all, their very nature was survival of the fittest.
“Two left,” Chi-yu said, checking his tablet.
Tae-oh nodded and swept the area with another wave of Sleep and Immobilization. Better to restrain them before they woke and forced unnecessary bloodshed.
Normally, he wouldn’t have cared. But today was their first day as partners, and he wanted it to end well.
He also wanted to finish quickly and go get Guided.
Then he suddenly wondered: was Chi-yu really planning to stick to hand-contact Guiding only?
“Hey, Chi-yu.”
“Yeah?”
“Can’t we do Saliva-contact Guiding too?”
Chi-yu froze mid-motion with the tablet.
“…What are you saying?”
“I mean, we were already a Temporary Pair, and our Saliva-contact Guiding was broadcast on TV. So why stick to just holding hands now?”
“The rule is that partners only use hand-contact Guiding. It’s a matter of mutual respect.”
“I’m saying—do we really need that kind of formality between us?”
“Of course we do.”
“…Do we?”
“Obviously. Even between friends, respect is essential.”
“What about lovers?”
“You’re the one who said you hate unstable relationships that could fall apart anytime.”
“Well, that’s…”
Tae-oh trailed off.
The truth was, his stance hadn’t changed. He still believed relationships ended—sometimes without warning.
You could fall deeply in love and swear it was forever, yet still one day be dumped—or slowly drift apart when the feelings faded.
Most people started madly in love, but for countless reasons, broke apart.
Yes, some married or bound themselves through Imprint, living together for life. But in his eyes, most relationships ended eventually.
And apart from Chi-yu, Tae-oh had never cared enough about anyone else to bother. People were messy, fleeting, and not worth the effort.
At Esper Academy, he’d seen plenty of couples who dated noisily, only to break up and make life miserable for everyone around them.
That was why he believed friendship lasted longer than romance.
But that didn’t mean he could sit by and watch Chi-yu become someone else’s lover.
No—more than that—there was no one else for him but Kang Chi-yu.
So he decided to change his thinking.
If breakups were the fear, the solution was simple: don’t break up.
And if one day Chi-yu’s love faded, then Tae-oh would simply make him fall in love again.
It would be hard, but effort could overcome it.
Kang Chi-yu was his one and only. For him, Tae-oh would do anything.
Lost in thought, Tae-oh turned to look at him. At the same moment, Chi-yu shut off his tablet and looked back.
Their eyes locked and held.
“What if you seduced me, and we started dating?” Chi-yu asked first.
The word if grated on Tae-oh. He corrected him immediately.
“There won’t be an if.”
“…Anyway. Let’s say we did. But then we broke up, for whatever reason.”
“……”
“What happens to us then?”
Truthfully, Chi-yu himself wasn’t sure.
He believed he could love Tae-oh forever, but there was no guarantee Tae-oh felt the same.
It was strange enough that emotions he’d ignored for twenty years had suddenly turned into love. And even if their feelings aligned now, who could say how long they’d last?
So the end of this relationship—if they moved beyond friendship—was the most important question of all.
Because Hyun Tae-oh was not someone Kang Chi-yu could ever cut out of his life.
Tae-oh’s answer came quick and sharp.
“What do you mean? We’d just start dating again.”
It was a bold, clear response—one that made all of Chi-yu’s worries sound almost laughable.
