Baek Hye-seong’s eyes were so resolute, so unwavering in their determination, that Dr. Na Hye-yoon had no choice but to fall silent.
And after a long stretch of persuasion, Na Hye-yoon eventually gave in with a reluctant nod—despite thinking to himself that he had absolutely no confidence in this.
“Well, if you want it that badly…”
“Thank you, Doctor. Really—thank you so much! Take care!”
He’d come in looking like death, biting at his lip, barely able to open his mouth to speak. And yet now, on his way out, his steps were practically dancing with lightness.
Click. The door shut softly behind Hye-seong’s hand, and the silence that followed in Dr. Na’s lab was broken by a weary sigh.
“Sure, makes my life easier… Christ.”
There was only so much he could say to stop him—especially when he couldn’t explain the whole situation. Even saying that Yoo Ji-ho despised Guiding had required delicate phrasing.
And of course, for himself, as long as he could avoid seeing Yoo Ji-ho’s face and just deal with the data? That’d be heaven. Director Shin Hyung-cheol would welcome the news even more eagerly—he had it worse than anyone else. In fact, the whole idea of finding a Pair Guide in the first place stemmed from that man’s dark little agenda.
The whole point was to offload Yoo Ji-ho onto a single Guide.
If Dr. Na delivered this news to Director Shin now, the man wouldn’t spare a thought for the young Guide’s wellbeing. He’d just be thrilled.
…But it’s not like Ji-ho’s gonna kill him, right?
“…Probably?”
Ugh, who knows. Dr. Na ran his hands through his tangled hair, mentally frazzled. He kept thinking about those innocent eyes, so full of trust, staring up at him. He couldn’t shake the image.
“Doctor. I’ll do it.”
“…What do you mean?”
“I’ll try to convince him. Even if it takes days, I’ll do it.”
It wouldn’t be easy. And where the hell had he even found that kind of courage?
Once again, a sharp ache jabbed at his chest. This sort of guilt always ended up being his burden to carry—more than Director Shin’s ever was.
“Goddamn it. I just wanna go home…”
He’d never seen a storm so soft-spoken before.
***
Director Shin warned, then warned again.
“I swear, I don’t even wanna care anymore, okay? Just—please, for the love of god, just get along with him.”
“Don’t worry. Obviously I’ll go along with what the Guide wants.”
“….”
Director Shin stared, momentarily speechless, and gulped down a glass of cold water. The sight of Yoo Ji-ho smiling pleasantly while saying such considerate words gave him the chills.
For a brief moment, he’d felt relief. Finally, Ji-ho would be out of his hands, even if just for a while. But the very next second, a chill ran down his spine.
If he really handed everything over, what the hell might happen? He didn’t even want to imagine. Especially because if something did go wrong, he—as Director of the Center—would be the one held responsible.
“This is the first team member you’ve ever had, dammit! Try to be decent to him!”
“Fuck off. ‘Team member’? I don’t raise shit like that.”
“If this one bails, we’ll have to start the Guide search all over again. You do know that, right?”
“I said I’m being nice. Do you want me to keep saying it?”
“….”
Still didn’t trust him. But what else could he do?
Then, like a light bulb going off, Director Shin had an idea.
“Alright, before you go, let’s do a practice round.”
“Ha.”
“Speak slowly. Kindly. Gently, alright? Like this—”
Director Shin suddenly twisted his face into an exaggerated smile and put on a syrupy, cringy tone.
“Hye-seong-sshi~, will you guide me today~? Thank youuuu~”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“As expected, your Guiding is the absolute best~”
“Jesus fuck, that’s disgusting!”
“What’d you say, you little—”
Yeah… asking him to say this kind of corny shit was probably pushing it.
Director Shin rubbed his chin, thinking, then finally settled on the most basic instruction he could think of.
“Right! Just… talk slowly with a smile. That’ll do.”
“…That’s supposed to make me kind?”
“A little?”
“….”
For once, Yoo Ji-ho nodded without resistance. Though his face didn’t look particularly convinced.
“Alright. I’ll try.”
“And one last thing, Ji-ho—remember this.”
“What now?”
“There are Guides who live without Espers, but no Esper survives without a Guide.”
“There you go with that bullshit again.”
He’d been calm just a moment ago. But now, in a flash, his expression changed. Director Shin instinctively dropped his gaze. Ji-ho hated that saying more than anything, and Shin had unintentionally flinched. But he couldn’t help it.
“Sorry, but it’s reality. So I’m saying—why not try settling down for once? One day, you’ll understand the deeper meaning behind my wise words.”
“How many times do I have to say it? I said I’d try. But don’t expect anything. I’m not expecting shit either.”
“Sometimes, the effort itself is what shines.”
“Bullshit.”
“Hahaha, you little punk.”
“I’m leaving.”
As Yoo Ji-ho walked out, Director Shin took it out on the poor sofa armrest, smacking it repeatedly. Felt like he’d lose more hair by tomorrow morning.
***
Everything Yoo Ji-ho had said to Director Shin—he meant it.
From the moment he heard those warnings, he’d tried his best to act kinder when facing his Guide. Even if it meant gritting his teeth. And with that, he figured he’d fulfilled the bare minimum of his duty.
“Right! Just talk slowly with a smile. That’ll do.”
“…That’s supposed to make me kind?”
“A little?”
It was all thanks to following Director Shin’s instructions to the letter.
“Hello, Team Leader.”
“….”
He’d even managed to smile warmly with genuine effort, speaking in a slow, gentle tone every time. Honestly, he thought he was doing quite well.
“Could you… not call me ‘Team Leader’?”
“Ah! Got it. Then, Yoo Ji-ho-ssi!”
“….”
When he first saw Hye-seong’s reaction, Ji-ho had been taken aback. Turns out Director Shin’s advice was shockingly effective.
“Do you have a preferred time of day for Guiding?”
“I don’t really… get Guided much, so… how would I know that?”
“Right, you’re busy with missions. And you probably haven’t had enough sessions to know. Got it! I’ll contact you after your schedule’s done, then!”
“….”
It actually worked. Watching the Guide bow out so peacefully and quietly, Ji-ho felt like the sky had cleared before his eyes.
He’s not crying?
Not crying and disappearing on his own? Every Guide he’d gotten to know until now had either burst into tears or quit before the third meeting.
This was it.
For the first time in ages, a pleasant curve crept up on Ji-ho’s lips.
At this rate, he might actually survive a month without his Guide bailing.
He assumed it was just a flimsy burst of enthusiasm that wouldn’t last. Human nature was predictable—given a lack of tasks, people defaulted to slacking off. Before long, Baek Hye-seong would realize that Ji-ho never reached out for Guiding and come to appreciate that fact.
But Ji-ho had overlooked one thing.
Baek Hye-seong was an extremely diligent Guide.
So instead of pestering him half-heartedly, Hye-seong pestered him consistently and efficiently.
“Would now be a good time? You’re due for a Guiding session.”
“Ah… now’s… not the best time.”
“Ah, then I’ll come back later!”
It felt like Ji-ho’s patience was being tested every single day.
“Did you enjoy your meal? Would now be alright for a Guiding?”
“I’m kind of… busy right now. Can you… get back to me later?”
“Sure, I’ll check in again in an hour!”
He popped up in Ji-ho’s field of vision multiple times a day.
“Ah—would an hour from now be too soon?”
“…Yeah. Way too soon.”
“Got it! I’ll reach out in two hours, then!”
This hyper little bastard.
Even as he thought that, Ji-ho just clenched his jaw and silently nodded, staring back with slightly narrowed eyes. This patience was all in service of his eventual freedom—just one month away.
“Yoo Ji-ho-ssi! I know it’s after work hours, but how about now?”
“Hye-seong-ssi, you need rest too. Living like this… you’ll get hurt.”
“Oh, I’m totally fine! In that case, let’s go Guiding now—”
“Take a break. I’ll reach out tomorrow.”
“Ah, okay!”
After a few days of this routine, Ji-ho finally began to think seriously about how to deal with Baek Hye-seong.
His normal tone was starting to slip out in conversation. At this rate, all his efforts would go to waste.
Sensing danger, Ji-ho endured two more days of this before starting to avoid the office altogether. It made him feel much better. Honestly, showing up somewhere every morning just didn’t suit him anyway.
It was disorienting since he’d never been in this situation before—but whatever. If things continued like this, the month would pass soon enough.
He figured the Guide would burn out and disappear on his own.
It had already been nearly a week. Just a little longer and this annoying presence would vanish from sight.
***
A few days later, Ji-ho found himself staring blankly at Hye-seong, who was now gently holding out his wrist.
“At this rate, Hye-seong-ssi might start following me to Gates.”
“Huh…?”
The moment Ji-ho mentioned the Gate, the Guide looked totally dazed—like a clueless puppy. Ji-ho snorted.
“The Gate… sir?”
“Yeah. I mean, you’re already showing up while I’m eating and everything.”
What kind of lunatic Guide would follow an Esper into a Gate? He hadn’t even meant it seriously—it just slipped out. But the Guide’s reaction was so honest, it was actually hilarious.
And then, the response that had led to the current situation:
“…I think I could do it. No, I will do it.”
“What?”
“Because it’s you, Yoo Ji-ho-ssi. If that ever happens… I’ll do it.”
He was so thrown by that, he’d actually stopped eating mid-meal and allowed the Guide to drag him into the Guiding Room—for a brief session of Non-contact Guiding.
