“……”
“……”
Silence lingered between them. Park Woo-jun quietly read between the lines of the tension. Only an S-Class Esper could properly handle the intensity of an S-Class’s live combat training.
Normally, the role would go to a higher-ranked Esper of the same ability type. But when it came to S-Class, the difference in power between A and S was so vast that ability type didn’t matter—only rank did. That’s why Kim Joon-young had always been in charge of Park Woo-jun’s training.
“I heard his basic training is almost over. So I went to the Director and told him I’d take care of the next phase—asked him to set the schedule.”
“……Yeah.”
“But he turned me down. Said since I’m a close-range type, I’m not a good match. Back in your case, Woo-jun, I was the only S-Class around, so it didn’t matter. But now there’s another long-range S-Class. He didn’t see any reason to insist on me.”
“……”
“Sorry. I know this is going to be awkward.”
Objectively, Kim Joon-young hadn’t done anything wrong. He was close to both Lee Han-seo and Ryu Ho-yeon. If anything, it was Park Woo-jun’s sudden reappearance that was complicating things. As someone in charge of managing the entire Esper force, his reasoning was solid, professional, and hard to argue with.
“It’s okay, Sunbae. Thanks for looking out for me.”
“Just try going through with it. If it’s really uncomfortable, say something. I’ll meet with the Director again and push a little harder.”
“No, it’s fine. Ho-yeon’s Guide just started, too……”
Before they were Espers and Guides, Park Woo-jun and Lee Han-seo were lovers—deeply inseparable, completely devoted. The only reason Woo-jun could hold himself together was the trust he had in Han-seo and Ryu Ho-yeon’s friendship—pure and unshakable.
My Guide’s former Esper.
My boyfriend’s—not his ex, thankfully—just his best friend.
Park Woo-jun closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. He had to take this like an adult. Throwing a petty fit would only make Han-seo uncomfortable.
“That’s good to hear. Oh—by the way, you knew about this, right?”
“Knew what?”
“Ho-yeon’s new Guide.”
Park Woo-jun nodded along, expecting something routine. Kim Joon-young, now visibly more relaxed, continued like he was just chatting about the weather.
“It’s Han-seo’s cousin.”
“What?!”
Holy crap. That was a bombshell. No one had told him.
“Huh? You didn’t know?”
How could he be finding this out from someone else and not from Han-seo himself?
“I just assumed you’d already heard.”
“Uhh……”
Emotionally, it didn’t sit right. Rationally, he didn’t even want to try making sense of it. Come to think of it, things had felt off lately. That strange, aimless distance—it might’ve been a sign they were drifting apart without realizing.
Crap… Did I just say something I shouldn’t have? Kim Joon-young rubbed his chin with a finger, then casually stood up. He’d already been away from his Guide too long under the excuse of needing to talk to Woo-jun.
“Alright. Get some rest.”
Whether he knew he’d just thrown Park Woo-jun into a storm of disappointment or not, Kim Joon-young walked off with the same light steps he came in with—completely unfazed that Woo-jun looked too stunned to even say goodbye.
“L-Lee Han-seo… That’s just… so mean…!”
Park Woo-jun was hurt. Seriously, painfully hurt.
***
Espers and Guides were, at their core, government employees. Especially Guides, who had to be ready to respond to Esper calls at any moment—even during breaks. That’s why even their lunch hour counted as official work time.
Why bring that up now, you ask?
“Sweet potato! I’m home!”
“Hmph……”
4:30 PM. Right on the dot. Government worker Lee Han-seo had breezed into the dorm like the wind after a perfect early escape from work.
“Huh? That’s weird…? Baby? Park Woo-jun?”
Like most office workers, Han-seo was at his best right after clocking out—cheerful, energized, and full of good vibes. Even if he had to go to work again tomorrow, nothing could dull the joy of a clean break.
Normally, if Woo-jun didn’t run out to greet him at the door like an eager puppy, he’d shout something like “Hey! Park Woo-jun!” at full volume. But not today. It was fine. He was freshly off duty, and life was good.
“Woo-jun~ Sweet potato~ Where are you~?”
“Mmm~”
The cheerful hum in his voice floated through the apartment like sunshine. Practically skipping with joy, Lee Han-seo flipped on the lights in the dim living room and swung open the bedroom door.
Boop.
On the bed—whose headboard had seen better days—sat a low, lumpy hill made of blankets. It looked almost adorable. At least through the eyes of Lee Han-seo, who was hopelessly love-struck and head over heels.
“Aha! There’s my sweet potato, hiding in here!”
With a springy bounce, he jumped onto the mattress and flopped down on the mound of blankets. Each time he called out, “Sweet potato~ Sweet potato~,” the lump wriggled ever so slightly in his arms. Han-seo bit down hard to stop a giggle from escaping.
“Why’re you playing hide-and-seek all by yourself without even telling me~?”
“……”
“Hey, sweet potato, you’re not gonna show your face to your hyung? Hm?”
Han-seo, you idiot… I’m older than you. Technically, I should be the hyung…
But they were the same age. And no matter how much Woo-jun tried to reason it out, the way Han-seo said “Hyung~” and called him “Sweet potato~” stuck to his ears like syrup.
Truth be told, Park Woo-jun loved it whenever Han-seo called him that. It might’ve started out as a joke—something muttered out of exasperation—but hey, a pet name’s a pet name. As long as it made Han-seo smile, it worked.
He almost forgot he was sulking. He nearly threw off the blanket right then and there just to tackle Han-seo with a hug.
“Sweet potato~”
“……”
“Hey, hey! Park Woo-jun!”
Still no reply, but every time Han-seo called out, the blanket mountain gave a tiny shiver. He wasn’t asleep, clearly. So what was this? A surprise? A hidden gift? One of Park Woo-jun’s classic, usually-doomed attempts at being romantic?
Tilting his head, Han-seo ran through the possibilities one by one. But nothing really fit.
What is this? What happened? Who wrapped my sweet potato in foil and stashed him away?
He drawled the words dramatically as he poked at the blanket mound again and again. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, a round head popped up with a soft plop.
Seriously? What is he, a turtle?
Han-seo stifled the urge to tease. He decided to stick with the sunshine approach—just like in the fable, where it wasn’t the wind but the warmth of the sun that made the traveler take off his cloak. He was sure that with enough love, his sweet potato would peel off that emotional wrapping too.
“Even the back of my boyfriend’s head is stupidly handsome.”
“……Baby.”
The voice was sulky. Not the usual sweet “baby~,” but a flat, mopey baby. He was definitely sulking. At least it wasn’t “Lee Han-seo,” so he probably wasn’t furious—just adorably pouty.
“Don’t you have something to say to me?”
Slowly crawling out from under the blankets, Park Woo-jun fixed Han-seo with a cold, pointed stare. It hit like a fastball straight to the chest—no buildup, no warning.
Something to say…?
“Uhh… not really…?”
“……!!”
His gentle eyes narrowed, a clear sign he was absolutely done. The look screamed, I’m so hurt I could die. Han-seo blinked rapidly, scrambling to think. What had he done? Something this serious could only mean one thing—he’d forgotten an anniversary.
“Ah! Is it… our first kiss anniversary…?”
He tossed out the guess with hopeful confidence—but the withering glare that followed told him loud and clear: wrong answer.
“—That’s next Wednesday. How could you forget that? You’re being so heartless!”
Good grief. For a root vegetable, this sweet potato’s got some very specific growing conditions.
One look at those teary, determined eyes, and Han-seo knew—if he didn’t handle this carefully, he was about to get mashed into sweet potato purée. Groaning, he pushed his exhausted brain even harder. Asking a man of action to think was just cruel. This potato was the worst.
“The first time we held hands…? No, wait—our Imprint anniversary…? That’s not it either… Yeah, yeah, of course I know. Obviously.”
He mentally scrolled through every milestone they’d ever had—confession day, 1,700 days together, first night at the dorm, first date, every obscure anniversary—but nothing felt right.
“……None of those?”
“Baby, seriously, you’re unbelievable…!”
“Hahaha… okay, okay, so none of those, huh…”
If it wasn’t an anniversary, Han-seo had no clue what else could make Woo-jun sulk like this. He didn’t realize he was wildly off-base and only making it worse.
Meanwhile, Park Woo-jun was starting to look like an overcooked sweet potato left too long in the steamer—eyes glistening with unshed tears, lips trembling. Han-seo finally threw in the towel.
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I seriously have no idea what I did, but it’s definitely my fault, okay? Just tell me what it is so I can apologize properly, please?”
Woo-jun bit his lower lip, looking at him like he’d been betrayed by the love of his life. Just watching those soft lips get pressed down like that made Han-seo groan.
Ugh. If only his nose was a little flatter, or his eyes a little smaller…
“Your cousin.”
“Huh?”
Yep. I definitely must’ve been a fool in my past life, throwing my fortune away for some pretty face and ending up penniless in the streets. That tracks.
Shaking off his thoughts, Han-seo focused on what Woo-jun was saying.
“Your cousin. The one who just entered the Center.”
“Uhh… huh? Yeah?”
“And I had to hear that from someone else? About your family? That’s just mean!”
“Wait… what?”
What do you mean? I just found out today too…
