4) Land of Nowhere
“Uh, so… what do you think…?”
Sweat beaded on her smooth forehead, showing just how intensely she was concentrating. Lee Hye-soo—a mental-type Esper who had carved precious time out of her packed schedule to humor Lee Han-seo’s endless nagging—had made a rare appearance at the Central Branch. Seeing that desperate look on his face, she couldn’t resist teasing him a little. With a fake frown, she deliberately dragged her silence.
“Noona, just tell me already. Please? Is our Woo-jun really okay or not?”
Han-seo, who had been gulping nervously for what felt like ages, had long since run out of patience. It had been nearly a year since he’d seen his beloved noona, but instead of greeting her properly, all he could do was bombard her with questions.
Suppressing a laugh, Hye-soo placed a finger gently on Park Woo-jun’s forehead and focused her ability. Almost instantly, like syncing to a Bluetooth speaker, a low voice started to play quietly inside her mind.
“Look at those rolled-up sleeves… so cute…”
“I wonder if he ate before coming…”
“No socks, huh? His feet must be cold…”
The inner voice drifting from him was as soft and calm as a spring breeze.
Woo-jun, dressed in a hospital gown with his wide eyes staring blankly, hadn’t moved his lips once. Yet, Hye-soo had no trouble hearing everything going on inside him. Reading thoughts even the person themselves couldn’t control—that was the power of Lee Hye-soo, an A-Class mental-type Esper.
Because of the nature of her ability, she was technically registered under the Center, but she mostly worked as a specialist assisting prosecutors and police investigations. She only visited the Central Branch once or twice a year, at most.
Recently, she’d also been appointed a consultant for a patent tribunal and had been drowning in work down in Sejong City. But after receiving one too many desperate cries for help from Lee Han-seo, she’d finally made time to come.
“I really love Lee Han-seo.”
“I wanna hold his hand.”
No matter how serious she tried to look, she couldn’t keep it up any longer. That blank expression, so unlike a combat Esper, was leaking pure, unchecked emotion—and all of it was blushing pink.
“Noonaaa!”
Han-seo’s voice, frayed from worry, echoed through the isolation room again. Only then did Hye-soo finally drop the act and smile.
“You already had the medical team check him out. Why drag me here too?”
“Well… just to be sure…”
“Yeah, yeah. Your Woo-jun’s fine. Perfectly fine. He’s completely back to normal now.”
Han-seo let out a long breath of relief and collapsed to the floor. Woo-jun, without hesitation, brushed off the IV lines and sensor cords attached to him and scooped Han-seo up in one swift motion. He’d been dying to do that from the moment Han-seo walked in, but had held back—more or less—since he was technically still undergoing examination.
Hye-soo, fully aware of what had been going on in his head, looked at the back of Han-seo’s head and muttered, ugh, under her breath.
It had been three days since Park Woo-jun had returned from successfully clearing yet another S-Class dungeon—only to immediately fall into another Blackout. Somehow, when he came to, not only had he recovered consciousness, but even his previously scrambled mind had healed as if nothing had ever happened.
The medical team had run multiple tests and confirmed it again and again—he was fully recovered. But Lee Han-seo, who had spent weeks hanging on to vague reassurances like “It’s just temporary,” and “He’ll get better soon,” couldn’t bring himself to fully believe it.
That’s why he’d begged her to come. Just once. To make sure Woo-jun was really okay. To dig into his Esper’s head and confirm he wasn’t just pretending to be fine. He knew she was busy, but he couldn’t let it go without being absolutely sure.
“I’m sorry. This is all my fault. You must’ve been really worried.”
“You’re kidding, right? That’s all you’ve got to say? Seriously, you… what the hell…”
Irritated for no real reason, Han-seo pinched Woo-jun’s cheek and gave it a firm shake. Woo-jun just grinned and leaned in, letting him do it without complaint. It was peaceful. Undramatic. And so perfectly them.
“It won’t happen again. I promise.”
“It better not. Once was terrifying—twice? No way. From now on, stay the hell away from mental Espers.”
“Wow, Han-seo. You do realize I’m standing right here, don’t you?”
“Ah, you don’t count, noona. Seriously—thank you so much for coming.”
His whole body radiated joy, practically floating with excitement. Even without using her ability, Hye-soo could feel just how happy he was. When she teased, “Only words?” he shot back immediately, “I’ll give you a huge wedding gift.”
“Right, where’s Woo-joo hyung? Why didn’t he come with you?”
Ah. So Lee Jung-hyuk hadn’t told him yet.
The corners of Hye-soo’s smile stiffened. She fidgeted with her earlobe, suddenly awkward.
“When was the ceremony again? I hope it’s on a day when Jung-hyuk hyung and I can both get the time off.”
If everything had gone as planned, she would’ve been getting married this spring to her Bonded Pair Guide, Han Woo-joo. They’d already gone through the Imprint. The wedding date was set. The invitations had been printed. Her dress was in final fittings. The preparations had been overwhelming, but she’d been so, so happy.
“Hmm, should I skip the cash and just get you a full set of appliances? How big’s your place? Send me the address—I’ll have my mom send someone over.”
“Mm… it’s okay. You really don’t have to.”
“What do you mean, ‘okay’? You’re gonna need that stuff anyway. Might as well buy it under the company account—”
“No. It’s not that, Han-seo.”
Her voice faltered, then stopped. A small sigh escaped her lips before the next words slipped out.
“I broke off the engagement. So… I really don’t need anything.”
“…Huh?”
“Sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I only made the decision recently. My head’s still kind of spinning.”
It felt more shocking than getting doused with a bucket of cold water in the middle of the street. At Hye-soo’s sudden confession, Han-seo froze like he’d just been struck in the head. Blank. Stunned.
Hye-soo and Han Woo-joo weren’t just any Bonded Pair. Like himself and Woo-jun, they’d completed the Imprint. They were always so obviously in love, constantly wrapped up in each other like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Everyone had assumed marriage was inevitable. In fact, most people probably thought it was already overdue. And now she was saying… they broke up?
“What do you mean? Did you guys fight or something?”
“Mm… no, nothing like that. We ended things cleanly. Mutual decision. It’s over—completely done.”
“But you were Imprinted. How do you just end things like that? Isn’t that supposed to be impossible?”
“Why would it be? We’ll just keep things strictly professional. Honestly, not every Pair falls in love, you know.”
That might be true for regular Pairs. But for those who had gone through the Imprint, it was different. One hundred times out of a hundred, it led to deep, overwhelming love. It was an instinct—an unshakable bond written into the DNA of Espers and Guides.
Even with her calm explanation, Han-seo looked completely unconvinced. As he should be. Hye-soo gave a small, bitter smile. It was ironic. If she hadn’t gone through it herself, she would’ve scoffed and said the same thing.
“Han-seo, Woo-jun’s back on his feet. You’re fine. Everything’s fine. So why do you still look like you’ve been hit by a truck?”
“…Noona. What are you even going to do now?”
“Wait, you’re not the one who got dumped. I am. Why are you freaking out?”
“I mean, okay, yeah, breakups happen. Better to cancel a wedding than go through a divorce, I get that. But noona—you’re an Esper. Even after breaking up, you’ll still have to receive Guiding from Woo-joo hyung. Are you really okay with that?”
The truth? She wasn’t okay. Not even close.
Her ability, which pulled in every fragment of someone’s unconscious mind, always flared to its strongest whenever she was Guided by her Imprinted partner. Because of that, she’d sensed it—felt the slow, creeping chill of his fading affection. She’d realized it faster and more clearly than even he had.
The most painful part? Han Woo-joo hadn’t even noticed. Bound by the instinctive pull of the Imprint, he hadn’t realized his love had gone lukewarm.
The difference between attraction born from the Imprint and genuine love… maybe it was foolish to try to separate them. After all, the Imprint was something you carried to your grave. But Hye-soo couldn’t close her eyes to that difference—not when it was her.
When she finally brought it up—suggesting they break things off and stay strictly professional—Woo-joo had been surprised, sure. But beneath that, he’d looked… relieved. If there’d been even a shred of real love left, he couldn’t have felt that way.
Letting him go—she truly believed—was the last kindness she could offer.
“Noona.”
His voice was full of worry, his eyes even more so. Hye-soo ruffled his hair—the hair of a boy who wasn’t a boy anymore, taller than she was now. As expected, he gave her an immediate look of protest. Woo-jun didn’t say anything. Not this time. He knew better than to step in.
“It’s fine. Worst-case scenario, I’ll just apply for Imprint dissolution.”
“You think that’s easy? If it were that simple, everyone would’ve done it! What the hell did Woo-joo hyung—no, what the hell did Han Woo-joo do to make an Esper talk about dissolving an Imprint?”
It wasn’t a natural Imprint, but a second-stage one formed through tech. The success rate for undoing it was laughably low, but an application could still be filed. It might take years, and even then, there was no guarantee she’d return to normal. Still, it wasn’t completely impossible.
“Forget it. It’s done. Don’t waste your energy getting angry. And seriously—don’t call Woo-joo. If you do, I will be pissed.”
“……”
“Hey. Did you just go quiet on me?”
She dug her fingers into his hair and messed it up on purpose. Han-seo flailed, yelling, “Okay, okay! I got it!”
“I’m heading out.”
“Already? You’re not even staying the night?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a trial hearing in two hours. Gotta be there.”
“……”
“Don’t pout. I’ll make time next visit. Let’s all meet up properly—me, you, Jung-hyuk oppa. The whole crew.”
“…Alright. Take care.”
As Han-seo forced down the lump in his throat and watched her leave, Woo-jun’s wide, unwavering eyes blinked slowly behind him, full of something he couldn’t put into words. A voice—clear, silent, and cutting straight through the air—shot directly into Hye-soo’s mind.
“Thank you for keeping our secret.”
Hye-soo said nothing. She just turned and walked away, her steps steady.
Right now, her own heart was already too heavy. She didn’t have the space to carry anyone else’s.
