Fortunately, before all the food stuffed in the fridge ran out, Park Woo-jun returned safely from the dungeon. Then again, calling it “safely” might be stretching the truth a bit. It was only “safe” in the sense that he’d cleared two B-rank dungeons and four C-rank dungeons in a row and still made it back in one piece.
“Han-seo, let me do it. I can still—”
“Shut it and just sit down, will you? Say one more word. I dare you.”
“Uhh, sorry…”
“If you’re sorry—!”
“……!!”
Lee Han-seo nearly screamed, ‘Stop messing with my nerves and quit running off to dungeons already!’—but he caught himself just in time, sucking in a deep breath. ‘Hoo, you can do this, Lee Han-seo… No yelling today, Lee Han-seo…’ It was practically a vow, solemn and determined—but tragically, no one was around to hear it.
It had been about two weeks since Park Woo-jun’s last mission deployment, and he came back with a serious injury to his right elbow. He had tried to rush straight to the next dungeon after receiving healing from a healing Esper, but Lee Han-seo barely managed to stop him by threatening to dissolve their Pairing and wipe out his personal seal.
At the very least, until that elbow injury healed naturally, he would be benched from all missions. In the meantime, if a high-level dungeon were to erupt, Kim Joon-young had personally promised Lee Jung-hyuk that he would go in Woo-jun’s place.
With Kim Joon-young soon stepping down as Director of Esper Affairs, he’d likely run off on a long vacation overseas with his Guide, enjoying life like a man with no worries. The least he could do for Park Woo-jun—who would be stuck taking on the burden during that time—and for Lee Han-seo, was to offer this small grace. Han-seo truly believed that.
CLANG!
“H-Han-seo! I can really—!”
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up and sit down?”
“Okay…”
It had been a few days since Han-seo took over all the little household chores in place of the injured Woo-jun, and perhaps because he’d never done them in his life, nothing came easily.
It had been nearly five years since Han-seo had essentially snatched up the newly awakened Park Woo-jun and formed a Pair with him. And in all that time, Han-seo had never so much as lifted a finger. Sure, he had no choice when on missions, but at home? That over-affectionate Esper had even tried to wash his face and brush his teeth for him. Granted, even before meeting Woo-jun, he had lived his whole life like a pampered son of a chaebol family, never once doing any manual labor.
Now, having just added one more broken mug to the count, Han-seo irritably swept up the sharp ceramic shards. Every time Han-seo moved, Woo-jun flinched like he couldn’t stand to watch. That was because this wasn’t the first time Han-seo had accidentally cut himself.
In any case, thank god they had stocked up enough food to last a whole month before the draft. It killed Woo-jun to see those dainty, delicate hands fumbling around, pulling out side dishes and scooping rice, moving restlessly all over the kitchen.
Without Han-seo noticing, Park Woo-jun trembled slightly. Then, the moment Han-seo stepped away from the dining table he’d half-prepared, Woo-jun darted like lightning to the front door and began sweeping up the finer shards with his bare hands, wrapping the larger pieces in newspaper.
Tiny glass fragments embedded into his skin would force him to later peel the regenerated surface to remove them. But that was still better than letting even a sesame seed-sized scratch appear on Han-seo’s hands.
With practiced efficiency, he moved swiftly and even finished setting the table Han-seo had left half-done. Despite the bandages wrapped tightly around his arm, he moved nimbly. His elbow was practically healed after days of contact-guiding, but part of this act was his way of lightening Han-seo’s mood.
Han-seo, who firmly believed he needed to protect this 190cm tall S-rank Esper, would always get an odd sense of satisfaction whenever he got the chance to care for Woo-jun. That was, of course, assuming the injury wasn’t serious.
Before and after his awakening as an Esper—perhaps because no one had ever done anything for him—Park Woo-jun found Han-seo’s ridiculous misunderstanding utterly intoxicating.
“……? Huh? Something’s different…”
“What would be different? Ah, I’m starving. Han-seo, let’s eat already.”
“Hmm…”
Tilting his head suspiciously, Han-seo eventually gave up, unable to find anything out of place, and sat down at the table, picking up his spoon. He scooped a heaping mound of white rice and placed a thick slice of soy-braised beef on top. And right next to him, Woo-jun opened his mouth wide like a baby bird, waiting to be fed.
With the giddy look of someone feeding a chick, Han-seo muttered cheerfully,
“Eat up. Eat a lot and get better fast.”
“Mm. Thanks.”
“Tastes good, right?”
“Mm-hmm. Our Han-seo’s the best.”
Forgetting that it was microwave-heated instant rice and side dishes he himself had made, Woo-jun kept grinning like an idiot, offering thanks with every spoonful Han-seo fed him.
“I have to go out for a bit later. If you’re scared to be alone, call Kim Joon-young, okay? Wait—no, he’s probably in a dungeon right now.”
Woo-jun bit his lower lip. The fact that Han-seo casually talked about summoning the busy Director of Esper Affairs like someone calling their pet dog didn’t even register. The problem was that the Guide he thought he’d get to spend the entire day with was about to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve got something to do. You don’t need to know. Now open your mouth, ah—”
Chopsticks holding spinach hovered right in front of his lips. Park Woo-jun accepted the bite, cheeks puffing with displeasure as he chewed and swallowed it all in one go. From the bland spinach to the perfectly aged garlic pickles, Lee Han-seo kept acting all high and mighty right in front of the one who’d made the food.
“Alright. Be safe. I’ll wait for you.”
If this had been a few years ago, he might have begged not to be left behind, cried and clung to him insisting they go together. But after years of living together, Park Woo-jun had grown—at least a little.
He could tail him discreetly anyway, so why stir up unnecessary conflict? Suppressing his feelings, he smiled innocently. And Han-seo, seeing that smile, grinned back.
“Aww, what a good boy. If only you listened this well all the time.”
“I do listen to you…”
“Says the guy who runs into dungeons without his Guide every damn time? Huh?”
The usual automatic apology didn’t even show up this time—not even a flicker of it. He knew damn well he was the only Esper with an engraved Pair who still charged into dungeons alone. And even so, he had no intention of backing down.
Even if the sky split in two, Lee Han-seo would never step into a dungeon.
That was the one and only reason Park Woo-jun volunteered to become the upper management’s attack dog.
Getting dragged into dungeon after dungeon, forced to play cleanup for other Espers, getting deployed again before he’d even recovered—it was all a price worth paying for Han-seo’s safety.
It was common knowledge that Guides working in high-level dungeons constantly suffered all sorts of injuries. And with bad luck, they could be dead by morning. That kind of sudden death happened more often than anyone liked to admit.
If anyone was going to die, Park Woo-jun would die first. But he would never, ever let his one and only Guide be put in harm’s way like that.
Han-seo, who was always pestering him to take him along because he didn’t want him going into danger alone, had no clue what kind of deal Woo-jun had struck with the higher-ups…
“Heh…”
“Don’t laugh. I’ll start getting attached.”
“Hehehe…”
“Seriously, you… If you weren’t this good-looking, I wouldn’t have let you get away with half this crap.”
No matter how much Han-seo cried or threw a fit, Park Woo-jun had no plans to change his mind or confess the truth. All he did was keep grinning like an idiot. Eventually, maybe worn out by himself, Han-seo muttered, “Come here,” and planted a light kiss on his smooth cheek.
“Ugh, you’re so smug about being handsome…”
The way Han-seo fed Woo-jun one bite, then took two for himself—his hands moved with practiced ease. Once they finished their meal, Han-seo shot him a sideways glare, tousled his hair with both hands like he was ruffling a dog, and got up from his seat. Looked like he was getting ready to head out.
Park Woo-jun trailed him around the room, never more than a step behind. Anyone else might’ve found the constant presence irritating, but Han-seo didn’t seem to notice at all. He’d grown too used to it.
“If there’s anything you want to eat, just text me. Alright, I’m off.”
“Okay, Han-seo. Come back safe!”
Flashing his eyes like fluttering petals, Park Woo-jun saw him off with a dazzling smile, then grabbed a ball cap that could cover most of his face and headed straight for the living room window. Looking down, it wasn’t long before he spotted that familiar head of black hair briskly advancing across the street. Just before the figure disappeared around the corner—
Click.
Park Woo-jun opened the window and leapt out. Faster than stairs or the elevator. There was no loud thud when he landed. His solid frame tread on air itself, landing as gently as a leaf.
“……Time to follow.”
Concealing his presence, trailing the faint scent carried on the breeze—it came as naturally to him as breathing.
After all, Park Woo-jun was South Korea’s only S-rank Esper with a nature affinity, and his ability was to control the wind.
Following Han-seo quietly, he eventually arrived at the Esper Assignment Division located in the main building. Commonly referred to as the Assignment Office, this department received real-time reports on dungeon activity and made official decisions about Esper deployments.
“Get Chief Kang out here right now! I’m settling this once and for all today!”
“G-Guide-nim, it’s just… I mean… Oh! Right! The chief is on a business trip! Yep, business trip!”
He’d more or less expected this. With Kim Joon-young planning his special vacation ahead of his retirement, even Woo-jun thought the recent workload had been over the top. Still, it wasn’t something that had ever bothered him personally—he was used to it. But clearly, his live-in partner had a very different view of things.
“I already looked up Kang Jae-hyo’s work schedule on my way here—what business trip? I know he’s inside. Get him out here before I call someone to drag him out!”
Since the decision about Han-seo’s non-combat clearance had already been negotiated and finalized with higher management, Park Woo-jun’s deployments weren’t even within the Assignment Division’s jurisdiction. Coming here to yell about it wasn’t going to change a thing—it was just wasted breath. The employees, used to the occasional chaos, could only suffer through it.
“Haah… Our Han-seo is so cute, even when he’s angry…”
Even in this situation, Park Woo-jun blushed and murmured to himself. Those small, determined shoulders squaring up for his sake—he couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful.
