Lee Han-seo’s emotions always surged with a depth and intensity far beyond the average person’s. They were like blinding light—brilliant and impossible to ignore. To Lee Hye-soo, who had long since learned to read the cruelty and hypocrisy lurking behind others’ facades, his ability to be so innocently honest with his own feelings seemed like a natural gift. In that sense, Han Woo-joo—her former Bonded Pair and ex-lover, now completely out of her life—was cut from a similar cloth.
When they first fell in love, she was certain they had done so together. So how had she ended up the only one left behind?
After the Imprint was severed, Han Woo-joo had smiled, calm and grateful, saying thank you like it was a simple farewell. There hadn’t been even a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. Meanwhile, she’d been left alone, picking through the wreckage of her shattered emotions like a fool.
Clinging to a love that had already ended was lonelier than she ever imagined. Still, she didn’t regret ending the Imprint. It was less painful than watching Han Woo-joo stay beside her out of obligation and guilt, completely devoid of affection.
Even if it was an artificial secondary Imprint, it was still an Imprint. From the day she filed for nullification to the final severance, it had taken nearly a year—countless visits to the lab, endless procedures. According to the researcher overseeing the process, they were lucky it had only taken that long. Some cases overseas dragged on for four or five years before being denied, forcing the Bonded Pair to continue living together.
Now, she’d run off to another country, wallowing in regret and self-pity, but when she first met Han Woo-joo—back when they fell in love—Lee Hye-soo had truly believed she was the heroine of some grand movie or drama. She thought all the pain and hardship in her life had just been trials meant to lead her to him.
Like most people living in a world slowly falling apart, her life hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing.
She still remembered the moment everything changed. One ordinary school day, sitting in class with her uniform neatly pressed, the voices of her classmates suddenly erupted in her mind—loud and unbearable. She’d been so terrified she broke down in tears and had to leave early. At the clinic with her parents, before she could even catch her breath, the diagnosis was handed down: she was an awakened mental-type Esper.
That moment stayed with her. The bespectacled psychiatrist had looked at her like she was lucky, saying at least she wouldn’t have to fight monsters in dungeons—being mental-type meant she was spared that. He even muttered something about how hard it was to get a civil servant job these days. Thinking back now, it was an absurd thing to say. But back then, all she could do was nod and cry, too young to process it any other way.
Since she wasn’t classified as combat personnel, the Esper Affairs Center didn’t rush her into formal entry. But within a month, she voluntarily walked through those doors. Even though temporary Guiding had stabilized her powers, everyone around her—family included—kept her at arm’s length. No one wanted to face a girl who could see into their thoughts without resistance. That kind of careful, polite isolation wasn’t something a middle schooler could survive alone.
Especially not when she hadn’t yet learned how to control her abilities. She ended up learning far too many things she didn’t want to know—things that helped push her toward her decision to enter the Center.
Like discovering her best friend had been trash-talking her behind her back. Or overhearing the scathing way teachers spoke about their students in the staff room. Or… realizing her parents were seeing other people behind each other’s backs.
If she stayed out there any longer, she was sure she’d lose her mind. So she enrolled. She was quickly paired with a high-compatibility Guide, and with help from older Espers who shared her ability, she began to feel like her world might finally stabilize.
But stability didn’t come that easily. Her first Guide was a middle-aged woman—someone who had spent decades living a normal life before being suddenly pulled into this world after a company health exam revealed her as a Guide. She had a husband, grown kids, and was nearing retirement when she was relocated to the Center.
She was kind to Hye-soo—pitied her, really. She’d gently brush and tie Hye-soo’s hair every morning. But that kindness had limits. She couldn’t sacrifice the rest of her life for a stranger. No one could.
Hye-soo begged, cried, pleaded for days, but the moment her Guide became eligible for retirement, she left the Center without a backward glance. That was the first time Hye-soo had ever been abandoned by a Guide. She thought it would be the last—until Han Woo-joo.
Everyone has the right to live the life they choose. She never blamed her Guide for that choice. But from the perspective of an Esper—someone who couldn’t even survive without a Guide—it still felt like abandonment.
It was during that time that she met Lee Jung-hyuk, who had also just entered the Center. Their Matching Rate was too low for them to ever become a Bonded Pair, but just having someone to lean on emotionally helped her stay afloat. Her painful adolescence passed like that—quietly, coldly, but survivable.
Then, a few years later, just as she was stepping into adulthood, she met Han Woo-joo. She’d been sent on a support assignment in the provinces when they ran into each other by pure chance. At the time, they didn’t even know each other’s identities—didn’t know who was the Esper or the Guide—but the moment they passed each other, they knew.
Before they could even recognize what the feeling was, they were already wishing for another encounter. Just one more coincidence.
That early-summer kind of love blossomed quickly. They’d met and fallen for each other before even knowing what the other was. And when they finally confirmed that their Matching Rate was more than enough to be Bonded Pairs, the world seemed to explode into bloom around them.
They truly believed they’d stay together forever. They clung to that belief like it was written in stone. She’d never even considered that her feelings could change. Not even for a second. The emotions were so sincere, so overwhelming, that they felt electric—like the first real truth she’d ever known in her entire life.
They had pushed their Matching Rate higher and gone as far as forming an Imprint because they believed—believed in forever. Since they were bound to each other for life anyway, sealing it with an Imprint felt even more fated, even more romantic. On the day they engraved each other’s existence into their very cores, Han Woo-joo had looked overwhelmed, promising her eternity with trembling sincerity. When he followed that with a proposal, Hye-soo had just buried her face in his chest and sobbed uncontrollably, unable to even get a word out.
“Sorry… just pretend you didn’t notice,” Hye-soo muttered, rubbing her arm absently.
She could feel Lee Han-seo’s emotions crackling around him like a lit fuse. He was furious—burning with frustration. She rushed to add more, hoping to soften the blow.
“But I’m still okay. I can manage. Really, you don’t have to worry.”
“Manage? Manage?! What kind of bullshit is that?!”
Yeah, that definitely didn’t work.
“Nope. Not happening. You need Guiding—now. You haven’t been assigned a Pair yet, right? Then just take mine. I’ll do it. I don’t care if you say no—I’m Guiding you right this second.”
“Don’t. Lee Han-seo, I swear, if you even try it, I won’t ever speak to you again.”
“Ugh, noona!”
Han-seo’s voice rose into a shout, his whole face flushed scarlet. Maybe it was the way he resembled Han Woo-joo in some small, intangible way—but seeing him again like this made something inside Hye-soo ache. She found herself quietly, bitterly envious of Park Woo-jun. The way he remained so steadfast, so fiercely devoted to his Guide—it looked unshakable. Like a rock she couldn’t touch.
“I’m sorry,” she said, voice low. “But… I’m just not ready to accept anyone else’s Guiding yet. I can’t bring myself to let it overwrite the last one he gave me.”
“That was months ago! You really think it’s still there?! Huh?! You seriously think Han Woo-joo is the only Guide in existence?! What’s so wrong with you that you’re still hung up on that guy, wrecking your own body just to hold on?!”
Technically, she’d been the one who initiated the Imprint nullification. But everyone around them knew the truth. They knew who had changed first. And it was cruel irony that she, of all people, was cursed with the ability to read beneath the surface—to see the quiet, buried truths no one else noticed. To sense the dying flicker of emotion hidden under the fragile veil of their Imprint.
“Thanks… for worrying.”
“……”
“I really will move on this time. That’s why I came here. That’s why I left.”
“……”
“Anyway, where’s Park Woo-jun? Did you ditch him again? Oh, the training grounds? Come on, let’s go. I should say hi.”
“Would you stop reading my emotions without permission?!”
“Not like I have a choice. I can’t control it right now.”
“Then get some Guiding! Ugh—forget it. Whatever. Just keep your levels stable. If you dip any lower, I swear I’ll start force-pumping Radiation Guiding into you.”
“Wow. Thanks. That’s so reassuring.”
Why hadn’t Lee Han-seo changed?
Why had Han Woo-joo?
If it was just a matter of time… would Han-seo turn out the same?
Hye-soo couldn’t stop wondering. The question gnawed at her, quiet but relentless.
