“Waaahh, waaahh. Bring me Park Woo-jun! Bring me my sweet potato…!”
“Can’t you at least get drunk like a normal person? Seriously, I can’t just leave you here. Hyung, Han-seo! Get up already. I don’t even know where your place is!”
It was turning into a full-blown mess. Lee Han-seo, ignoring every attempt to stop him, kept knocking back drink after drink, and now he was so wasted that Choi Jae-won had no idea what to do. Han-seo had gone limp, cheek pressed to the table, crying and sobbing, repeating the same thing over and over—Bring me Park Woo-jun. Incredibly, it was still only 7:30 in the evening.
There’s no way I’m seriously gonna have to take him back to our place, right? No way. Absolutely not. I hate this. Jae-won firmly shook his head, picturing the sweet new dorm life he’d just started with Ryu Ho-yeon.
“Park Woo-jun… That bastard… After everything I did for him, hic, and he says that to me…!”
Waaahhh. The alcohol-soaked wailing echoed pitifully over the table. Jae-won’s head throbbed. Not only was Han-seo refusing to explain what Woo-jun had actually said, he was just dumping raw emotion on him without any context. It was emotional waterboarding.
“What did he say? Did he cuss you out or something? Knowing you, you wouldn’t have just sat there and taken it. If it’s that bad, break up with him. Sure, you’re a Bonded Pair because of the Imprint, but you can still keep things strictly business.”
“Y-you asshole…! Just because your mouth works doesn’t mean you should use it for trash like that…!”
“What the hell? You’re the one acting crazy here!”
Even drunk, Han-seo couldn’t let that slide. He swayed and staggered, but his slaps landed cleanly on Jae-won’s arms. Gritting his teeth, Jae-won tried to get out of reach, but the cramped space between their seats made it impossible.
“Waaahhh! Why would we break up? Take it back! Take it back right now!”
“Okay! I take it back, I take it back! Happy now?”
“You bastard…”
Even with no strength left in his arm, those slaps still stung. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Jae-won’s phone started vibrating in his pocket again for the millionth time that day.
He didn’t even need to look. He’d bet every share of stock he’d inherited that none of those messages were out of concern for him—they were all scolding him for making our precious Han-seo cry.
“Ugh, screw it. Do whatever you want. Here, go ahead. Hit me. Hit me all you want…”
“Waaahhh, hic, hrrk, waaahhh…”
Oblivious to the fact that his poor cousin had just transcended into spiritual resignation after being dragged into this drunk disaster, Han-seo kept bawling like a child. Not a quiet sniffle, either—full-on downpour-level sobbing.
He’d somehow kept it together for the past few days, but once the dam broke, there was no stopping it. He tried to hold it back, but the tears just kept coming, pouring out faster than he could wipe them away.
“To you, I’m probably just one of the many important things in your life, so maybe it’s hard to understand…”
“……”
“But to me, Han-seo… you’re the only thing I have.”
His voice was ragged and worn out, like a pair of old sneakers tossed aside and forgotten. The exhaustion in it wasn’t new—it came from years of being tired. And Han-seo could swear on everything he had: he’d truly never known. He had no idea Park Woo-jun had ever thought that way.
“Waaahh… you idiot… You knew you were all I had, and still, hic, how could you say something like that to me…?”
“Okay but seriously, what the hell did he say to you? Hello? Han-seo? Who do you think you’re even talking to right now?”
It wasn’t just that Woo-jun had thought those things. What tore Han-seo up was that he hadn’t seen it. Hadn’t noticed. Hadn’t even suspected. That was what really hurt.
It wasn’t anger over not being understood. It was guilt. Pure guilt. Guilt for treating himself like he was just one more thing in Woo-jun’s life. Like he was just part of his world. But the truth was, Han-seo loved him—deeply, painfully, wholeheartedly.
He always thought he was the only one feeling anxious. The only one afraid of how lopsided their love was. Every time he saw Park Woo-jun curled up from Blackout, trembling and unable to even recognize him, the doubt crept in.
Maybe he doesn’t really love me. Maybe he’s just pretending because of Guiding. Maybe it’s all just a side effect.
And every time he saw that clueless face staring back at him, he wanted to grab him by the collar and shake him senseless.
“Woo-jun… why’d you say that…? Why do you always act like you’re the only one in love… Why do you make it seem like that…?”
If Park Woo-jun had no one but Han-seo, then Han-seo had no one but Park Woo-jun either. All the relationships and possessions that might make it seem like he had more—they were just passing things. Temporary. Borrowed.
Han-seo had been diagnosed as a Guide at seven years old, the first-ever S-Class Guide in South Korea. And for fourteen years, up until the day he met Park Woo-jun, he’d lived his life with one absolute certainty: that he would become Ryu Ho-yeon’s Pair.
There’s no need to explain how huge fourteen years is in someone’s emotional development—especially when it swallows their entire adolescence.
But one thing was crystal clear: even for someone like Lee Han-seo, it hadn’t been easy to turn his back on a friend who’d been like a second skin for over a decade. Not when he understood exactly how essential a Guide was to an Esper’s survival.
Thank God for Choi Jae-won, honestly. If another compatible Guide hadn’t shown up when he did… Ryu Ho-yeon might’ve spent his whole life surviving on half-measures, wasting away before he even hit thirty.
For an Esper born with innate powers—someone who never had an awakening—it was a miracle that he’d survived this long without a Pair. And behind that miracle was the tireless effort of the Research Director. Lee Han-seo was, in every sense, the living embodiment of all her work.
He knew. He knew how much effort had gone into keeping his friend alive. Knew that Ryu Ho-yeon might literally waste away and die without a Guide. And still—Lee Han-seo chose to take Park Woo-jun’s hand.
And not once—not even for a second—had he regretted it.
Even if it meant letting Ryu Ho-yeon collapse and die, that choice wasn’t far from saying: I’d still choose Park Woo-jun.
That was the root of the overwhelming guilt and sense of debt Han-seo carried toward Ho-yeon.
Because by now, Han-seo’s world was already filled to the brim with just one person: Park Woo-jun. If cutting open his chest and showing his heart was all it took to prove how he felt, he’d do it without hesitation.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry I made you feel that way, hic, I really didn’t know… Woo-jun… I swear, I didn’t know that’s how you felt…”
Muttering through his sobs, Han-seo eventually dropped forward with a dull thud, knocking his forehead against the table as he passed out cold.
Choi Jae-won groaned and held his head, cursing the gut feeling that had unfortunately been right on the money.
Can’t I just leave him here…?
The moment the thought crossed his mind, his phone buzzed again. At this point, the sound alone made his skin crawl. He didn’t even know who was watching—there were no suspicious customers around, but someone clearly had eyes on them.
♡ Ho-yeon Hyung ♡
[D Building, Room 306.]
[Take Han-seo home.]
[I would, but if I run into Park Woo-jun, I can’t promise I won’t punch him.]
[And if I punch him, Han-seo will be upset.]
Jae-won clenched his jaw. He really didn’t want to be the jealous type—he wasn’t usually petty like that—but damn it, he couldn’t help it. It burned.
[Jaewon.]
[Why aren’t you answering.]
Letting out a deep sigh, Jae-won typed back:
[Yeah. Got it, hyung^^..]
That awkward little emoticon and the double period—his own sad, silent scream of jealousy and bitterness. If only you could get a clue, hyung…
He let himself sink into a hopeless daydream for just a second. But it didn’t last. The idea of Ryu Ho-yeon ever picking up on something like that? Please. Even if he did notice, he’d 100% respond with a clueless “So? Why?” that would make Jae-won want to scream into a pillow.
“God… how did I end up like this…”
He muttered to himself as he reached to haul Han-seo upright, ready to drag his unconscious cousin home like some kind of babysitter. Smack. A sharp sting ran across the back of his hand.
“Get your hands off him.”
“…Sorry, what?”
“I said. Take your hands off him.”
Park Woo-jun. No idea when he showed up, but there he was. Silent, sudden. He brushed right past the dumbfounded Jae-won and gently lifted Han-seo into his arms.
And just like that, Han-seo’s tense expression softened. Even passed out, his body instinctively relaxed the moment Woo-jun touched him.
“Use this card to pay. Do whatever you want with it. Keep it. Burn it. I don’t care.”
Jae-won hadn’t expected a thank-you, but come on—this?
Did they have some kind of tag-team hobby where they both took turns screwing him over?
Completely ignoring Jae-won’s stunned face, Park Woo-jun vanished with Han-seo in his arms, just as quietly as he’d arrived.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He was too stunned to even curse. If sharing half his blood with Lee Han-seo meant having to deal with this, then maybe he should just drain it all out and be done with it.
“Thanks for helping, Jaewon.”
Still—when life takes, it sometimes gives, too.
“Hyung!”
“…I know it’s kind of a weird time, but… want to grab a drink with me? Second round?”
“…!!”
A surprise happy ending, like a gift out of nowhere.
Grinning so hard it hurt, Jae-won decided maybe he could stand being Han-seo’s cousin a little while longer.
Honestly? It wasn’t such a bad deal after all.
