In the flurry of the moment, once smoke began rising, Baek Hye-seong couldn’t even bring himself to touch it.
“This belongs to the Center… It’s not even mine, so what do I do…?”
From a distance, Hye-seong fidgeted anxiously as he stared at the tablet, his voice trembling as if on the verge of tears. In contrast, Yoo Ji-ho offered him a quiet reassurance in his usual flat tone.
“It’s okay. That thing could’ve broken on its own.”
“…Are you sure it’s really okay?”
“I’ll get you a new one.”
Hye-seong nodded gloomily.
Sure, his heart had nearly jumped out of his chest just moments ago, but to Yoo Ji-ho, this kind of mishap probably meant nothing. If he asked the Center, they’d probably hand him ten more without blinking.
Of course they would. Still, Hye-seong felt like his heart was still pounding in his chest. Even if it had broken on its own…
“Huh…?”
The hand Yoo Ji-ho had been holding all this time gently shook his. Hye-seong finally tore his lingering gaze from the tablet, his eyes full of regret, and looked at him.
“Now that there’s nothing to stare at, what are you gonna do?”
“Well, nothing I can do. Guess I just have to go with it today…”
“You can still guide without that thing, right?”
“Yep. It’s not like I need it or anything.”
Obviously, not being able to see real-time graphs wasn’t going to mess up a guiding session. After all, Espers usually understood their own condition better than anyone else.
Hye-seong had only wanted to check if the session was going well—he wasn’t yet skilled enough to sense it entirely through his body, so he liked having the machine’s help. And… it gave him somewhere to look besides Ji-ho’s face.
“Then it’s completely useless.”
“Huh? Uh… I wouldn’t say that…”
“You can guide without it, right? Might as well practice doing it without.”
“Practice?”
Well, yeah. Feeling like he’d learned something, Hye-seong quietly nodded.
“Got it. I’ll try it that way from now on!”
Truth be told, compared to other Guides, Hye-seong had a tendency to fixate more on the numbers. He wanted to do well—and to make sure he was doing well.
Now, since he’d broken Center property, did he need to write up an incident report? But then again, his assigned Esper was Yoo Ji-ho.
His big eyes flicked over to Ji-ho, stealing cautious glances—classic behavior for someone trying to read their superior’s mood.
“……”
“……”
But Ji-ho didn’t seem the least bit concerned that Hye-seong had broken a simple piece of equipment. He just leaned comfortably against the couch, letting Hye-seong hold his hand, his gaze fixed straight ahead.
When Hye-seong followed his line of sight, he realized the old movie playing in the background had transitioned into a quiet, nostalgic score from a bygone era.
Not sure if it was okay to watch along, Hye-seong hesitated, then rested the side of his head gently against the couch.
The graph displaying Ji-ho’s wave pattern levels had been the perfect place to fix his eyes during guiding, but now… he was in trouble.
Still, if that gave him an excuse to glance at Ji-ho instead, maybe it wasn’t so bad. Ji-ho was watching the movie, so he probably wouldn’t even notice where Hye-seong’s eyes were.
Maybe it was the peaceful scenes on the screen, but Ji-ho wore a relaxed smile.
Hye-seong suddenly wondered if it was really okay for him to be doing this job so comfortably. Then, right at that moment, Ji-ho, still facing forward, spoke.
“Oh, finish that before you leave.”
“…Sorry?”
Ji-ho gestured with his chin at the bag of mixed nuts Hye-seong had left on the table earlier. When Hye-seong looked at him in confusion, Ji-ho sighed lightly and added,
“From now on, when guiding’s over, sit down and finish those before you leave. Don’t just bolt as soon as you’re done.”
“Uh… okay.”
“Good.”
Seeming like he’d checked off the last item on his to-do list, Ji-ho took a sip of coffee and went back to watching the film.
Hye-seong tried hard to focus on guiding, but it wasn’t going well.
All of his attention was being drawn to the Esper sitting right in front of him, not the guiding itself.
Truth was, lately, Hye-seong had started wanting more.
Talking face-to-face like this with Yoo Ji-ho, and actually being of some—however small—help to him… he’d never dared to imagine it was even possible. He wasn’t hoping for anything beyond this. He just didn’t want to lose what he had.
At least I hid it well.
When Ji-ho had asked if he was a fan, Hye-seong had been so startled he thought his heart might stop. But now, it seemed like Ji-ho had already forgotten the whole thing. Thank god he’d dodged that one.
Today, Ji-ho had even advised him not to obsess so much over numbers and, after guiding was done, kindly encouraged him to rest properly in his space.
He might be a little blunt, but Ji-ho’s genuinely a good person.
Hye-seong wanted to be even more helpful to someone like him, but he couldn’t tell if he actually was being helpful. Was he just fooling himself? Was this job really more than he deserved?
The thought unsettled him a little, and his fingers started fidgeting without him realizing—though they didn’t get far before Ji-ho’s hand clamped down again.
***
Crunch crunch. In the wide, quiet house, the only sound filling the space after the day’s guiding was Hye-seong crunching on nuts.
Another almond went into his mouth. He couldn’t leave until he’d finished the whole bag.
Crunch. Crunch.
He didn’t know why, but ever since Ji-ho had insisted he eat them after guiding, he’d been dutifully doing so for days. When he kept bringing them, Ji-ho eventually just stocked a giant container so Hye-seong could help himself. Yesterday, curious, he’d asked if he could have two bags. Ji-ho had casually told him to eat as much as he wanted.
As he nibbled on each nut, Ji-ho would watch intently, as if it were some fascinating ritual. And today was no different.
“……”
“……”
This moment of the day had become something of a routine—but honestly, it was awkward. Really awkward.
It almost felt like Ji-ho was personally supervising to make sure he really ate them. Hye-seong was starting to seriously wonder—
Does he not trust me that much?
Well, a healthy Guide meant a healthy Esper, so maybe Ji-ho was just that kind of Esper—the kind who took his Guide’s well-being into his own hands.
That was the guy who spoon-fed him porridge that one time, after all…
Suddenly, the sound of his chewing felt way too loud. Hye-seong shifted his eyes and glanced at Ji-ho, who returned the look with a soft smile—and even jerked his chin, telling him to keep eating. Relieved, Hye-seong tossed another almond into his mouth.
“Would you like some too, Yoo Ji-ho?”
It felt rude to eat alone, so this time, Hye-seong subtly offered.
“No.”
“Oh… okay.”
The extended bag of nuts was pulled back. Then, Ji-ho, who hadn’t said a word until now, spoke up.
“Where are you going after this?”
“Uh, I was gonna grab lunch, then head to the office to write my report.”
“You’re eating again after eating that?”
“Yup, gotta keep my strength up.”
At that, Ji-ho let out a short laugh.
“You really go all in on everything, huh?”
“Thank you!”
“……”
At Hye-seong’s boisterous gratitude, Ji-ho’s brows furrowed slightly.
Buoyed by the compliment, Hye-seong swallowed the almond and worked up the courage to ask,
“Would you… like to have lunch together?”
“I’m not really in the mood for food.”
“Huh? Come again?”
His already big eyes went even wider. Startled, Hye-seong blurted out,
“You don’t have an appetite?”
But… he just had a guiding session. How come?
When he asked with real concern, Ji-ho only laughed softly. Of course Hye-seong was worried. Maybe his guiding hadn’t been strong enough to properly boost Ji-ho’s condition.
“Do you… not like any contact besides holding hands?”
“Anything else?”
As Hye-seong stared up at him, Ji-ho scanned him up and down before furrowing his brow.
“I don’t know if it’d even work.”
“Got it…”
Deflated, Hye-seong slowly popped a pistachio into his mouth.
He wanted to be a Guide who could truly help Ji-ho—but he kept running into the limits of his own ability.
Things had definitely improved compared to before. He didn’t know how long Ji-ho had refused guiding, but at least now, he was letting Hye-seong stay this close. It couldn’t have been that serious, right?
Had Ji-ho rejected every Guide who didn’t meet his standards until now?
If so, the fact that he even let Hye-seong hold his hand was a miracle—but Ji-ho still seemed deeply skeptical about Contact Guiding.
If holding hands alone was enough for effective guiding, things would’ve been a lot easier.
The fact that Ji-ho didn’t seem to mind their inefficient sessions—as long as he allowed hand-holding—was actually a relief for Hye-seong.
If not for that, he would’ve been dismissed as Ji-ho’s Pair Guide long ago. It was still a mystery how he’d even been selected in the first place.
“I don’t know if it’d even work.”
That remark—about whether other types of contact would work—was something Hye-seong completely understood.
He probably didn’t want anything more than just holding hands. No matter how necessary, in the end, he was still a guy…
Matching between Espers and Guides usually prioritized efficiency, but it wasn’t uncommon for some to care about the other’s gender.
But Ji-ho didn’t just seem skeptical of Contact Guiding—he didn’t seem to care much about their subpar efficiency, either.
All of this only made it more and more clear to Hye-seong that he wasn’t chosen solely for his abilities.
So then… why was Ji-ho keeping him around?
If only I were ranked higher… If only my compatibility with him was better.
The more Ji-ho disliked Contact Guiding, the more Hye-seong hated that he couldn’t be a more capable Guide.
If only he were the kind of Guide who could stabilize an Esper with just a brush of his fingers… or someone whose mere presence brought calm…
Someone worthy of standing beside Yoo Ji-ho.
