It seemed like the only one truly suffering from the bizarre little clique formed around Lee Han-seo and Ryu Ho-yeon was Choi Jae-won.
Not only was he the only one who noticed the subtle shift in Park Woo-jun’s attitude—someone he’d quietly considered a fellow survivor in this chaotic ecosystem—but he also felt like the only one who cared.
“Hey, did you hear? Hye-soo noona said she wants to be set up on a blind date.”
“Yeah. I told her I didn’t really know anyone, joked that maybe I’d set her up with you, and she hung up after cussing me out. I mean, come on—my cousin’s got the looks and the personality. What’s not to like? Weird, right?”
“Wait—what? That’s not—”
Han-seo, who had been rambling cheerfully, suddenly choked on his words.
You couldn’t expect regular logic to apply to an eccentric, socially tone-deaf Esper. Even if someone pointed out, Isn’t it messed up to set up the Guide who’s clearly in love with you on a date with someone else?—she’d probably just tilt her head and go, Why? What’s wrong with that?
Han-seo nudged Choi Jae-won and silently mouthed, You okay?
Jae-won replied with a crooked half-smile, the kind that barely curved one corner of his mouth. It wasn’t even a fresh wound anymore—just another scar that didn’t sting.
Honestly, he was lucky she didn’t expect him to volunteer for the boyfriend role. That alone was a mercy. He hadn’t even mustered the strength to complain.
Meanwhile, Park Woo-jun remained as ever—smiling that perfect, practiced smile like wallpaper.
And once again, it was Choi Jae-won—the only semi-sane one in the group—who was left twitching with unease.
Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. Whether his cousin was clueless or just pretending to be, Jae-won pulled him aside under the excuse of needing to talk about something family-related.
“We’ll be back in a bit, so don’t fight with Ho-yeon while I’m gone, okay?”
“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ve been really good lately.”
“Yup. Our Woo-jun’s the best.”
“Do you have to leave right now?”
“Ugh, seriously! Let’s go! How many goodbyes are you gonna say?!”
Despite claiming they were leaving, Han-seo was still clinging to his Esper like a lovesick koala, rubbing up against him with zero intention of moving.
Finally, Jae-won snapped.
“I swear, you got a little taller and now you think you can sass your hyung?” Han-seo fired back with a mock-scolding tone full of boomer energy, punctuating it with a stinging slap on Jae-won’s shoulder.
If it weren’t for Ho-yeon hyung… Jae-won bit back his frustration and followed him out, swallowing down the urge to scream.
Ryu Ho-yeon’s workshop was inside one of the research wings, so there weren’t a lot of places to talk privately.
Seeing Jae-won standing awkwardly and frowning, Han-seo wordlessly led him to the café in the lobby.
Might as well grab some snacks while they were at it.
“What’s wrong now? Still stressing over what to get Ho-yeon for his birthday?”
As soon as they’d sat down with their drinks, Han-seo got straight to the point.
Jae-won flinched hard.
Han-seo thought he’d nailed it—but the reality was a bit different.
That was when Jae-won realized he didn’t even know when Ryu Ho-yeon’s birthday was.
His birth hadn’t been officially registered under the guise of “state confidentiality.” The guy didn’t even have a proper resident ID number yet. No matter how deep you dug, there was no birthday to be found.
I should’ve asked that first—before I tried figuring out what he likes or hates…
Damn it.
“N-no, that’s not it!”
His voice cracked, flustered and sharp with equal parts guilt and annoyance.
Han-seo, of course, was still grinning like none of this had anything to do with him.
“Then what? What else would you be asking me about if not Ho-yeon?”
Fair question.
If it weren’t for Ryu Ho-yeon, the two of them wouldn’t even be sitting together like this. And really, this whole conversation boiled down to one thing: making sure Ho-yeon’s obsessive attention didn’t lock in on Han-seo alone.
“I’m talking about your Esper. Team Leader Park Woo-jun.”
“Mm.”
Han-seo nodded casually as he scooped off just the cream from his Einspänner, completely unbothered.
Meanwhile, Jae-won looked like he was about to deliver state secrets, swallowing hard before speaking.
“Lately… has something happened? Did you guys fight or something…?”
The question was laughably mild compared to the dramatic buildup.
Han-seo just smacked his lips and kept sipping. “Nope. Nothing.”
“Hyung! Can you take this seriously for once?”
“How much more serious do you want? Want me to spell it out in bullet points? Who—Park Woo-jun and Lee Han-seo. When—recently. Where—wherever. What—dating. How—perfectly fine.”
Need more? His glare was sharp enough to cut.
Jae-won immediately backed off, tail between his legs.
With Han-seo holding years of friendship and history with Ryu Ho-yeon over his head, there wasn’t much he could say.
“No, I mean… Team Leader Park’s been way too quiet lately. Am I the only one who thinks that’s weird?”
Sure, it wasn’t new for Park Woo-jun to act like a lovestruck mutt around Han-seo, trailing behind him like a lost puppy. But something was different now.
He still followed orders and put on the same cutesy act—but it felt like he had no opinions of his own anymore.
These days, Park Woo-jun felt like his entire personality had been scrubbed clean.
And it wasn’t just Jae-won who noticed.
People had started whispering—wondering if the side effects of being paired with a mental-type Esper had permanently altered his personality. Especially since Woo-jun’s response to everything was always the same: a sweet smile and a soft “mm.”
“Yeah, it’s just you.”
“No way… Something’s definitely off…”
Han-seo didn’t miss the shift in mood, but he pretended not to notice, sipping his coffee and shutting down the conversation with finality.
He’d followed Jae-won out here thinking this was going to be about Ryu Ho-yeon’s birthday, which was right around the corner. Clearly, he’d guessed wrong.
If he’d known it was going to turn out like this, he wouldn’t have let the conversation start in the first place.
But truth be told, no one had sensed Park Woo-jun’s change faster than Han-seo.
Living together, breathing the same air day in and day out—it was impossible not to notice.
He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it started, but Park Woo-jun’s behavior had undeniably changed.
The guy who used to pout and whimper like a kicked puppy at the mere mention of a mission was now silently supporting him through training.
When Han-seo said he wanted to dive into more dungeons after finishing the four missions they’d agreed on? Woo-jun just nodded.
When he said this month was for practice and next month he’d officially begin S-Class raids? Another nod.
That endless string of nods was the most un-Woo-jun thing he’d ever seen.
So it was only natural that Han-seo—who hated bottling things up—finally snapped and asked, “What’s with you lately?”
And Park Woo-jun? He just laughed. Softly, mournfully.
The kind of laugh that sounded like he might cry if you listened too closely.
“Just…”
“What? Just? Don’t you dare give me that half-assed answer, Park Woo-jun—”
“Just, Han-seo… I realized something. I realized just how much you’ve loved me. And now that I know… I can’t pretend I don’t.”
He hadn’t even cried. It was like he’d drawn a line in the sand, deciding he couldn’t afford to weigh down Han-seo’s heart any more than he already had.
“I’m sorry. I figured it out too late.”
“Hey. Park Woo-jun.”
“Just let me do this much. Let me listen to everything you say. That’s all I want.”
Han-seo didn’t need to ask what he meant.
Maybe Park Woo-jun had a few secrets of his own—but as far as Han-seo was concerned, there was only one secret between them.
He loved the guy. Loved him even when he was awkward and insecure.
But he didn’t want to see him acting like this—looking over his shoulder, full of guilt and anxiety.
So Han-seo decided to give him time.
However long it took.
And if it started dragging on too long, then fine—he’d drag Park Woo-jun back himself, kicking and screaming if he had to.
He didn’t need anyone else getting involved.
So, as Choi Jae-won sat across from him, visibly brooding and suspicious, Han-seo casually lobbed a verbal grenade.
“You sure you’ve got time to be sitting around like this? Did you forget Ho-yeon’s birthday is next week?”
“…!! You should’ve said that first! Wait—next week?!”
People in love really were transparent.
Just like Jae-won was now, Han-seo figured he and Woo-jun must’ve looked just as obvious to someone else.
“Tsk, tsk. You’ve still got a long way to go.”
Watching Jae-won’s wide-eyed panic, Han-seo found the honesty of it all oddly touching—and downed the last sip of his coffee.
***
Dressed neatly in his usual combat gear, Park Woo-jun was shaking like a leaf.
“H-H-Han-seo… Am I… am I shaking right now?”
Normally, Han-seo would’ve laughed and gone, “Yeah, but even my baby looks cute when he’s trembling,” and capped it off with a kiss.
But not today.
Today, he was gripping Woo-jun’s hand, trembling just as hard.
“Baby… Are we sure about this? I mean, we could still back out—no? No… probably not.”
“Y-You said… I had to listen to everything you said…!”
“R-Right… I did… I am listening! But why am I shaking so much…?”
His face—still bare, without the tactical goggles—was ghostly pale. Not a hint of color.
Han-seo cupped his cheeks in both hands, like a man rallying for battle.
“You can do this. You’ve got this. It’s okay.”
“Han-seo…”
And there it was—Park Woo-jun’s tears, pooling in his soft, boyish eyes. He hadn’t cried in ages.
Just then, Kim Joon-young’s sarcastic voice cut through the moment like a whip.
“Alright, lovebirds, knock it off and get inside. You’re not going off to die, you know.”
“Sunbae! Don’t say stuff like that! Words like that stick, okay?!”
Today was the day—Han-seo’s first S-Class dungeon raid in nearly six months.
