“Then I’ll see you again tomorrow. Have a good evening, Yoo Ji-ho.”
“Take care.”
After finishing off the last of the nuts with gloomy eyes, blaming himself for being so useless, Hye-seong gave Ji-ho a quiet goodbye and trudged off toward the Center cafeteria.
Even without much of an appetite, he still had to eat—four meals a day, every day. But at some point, he began to feel the weight of others’ stares every time he walked into the cafeteria. It was something he wouldn’t have noticed before, but ever since Kim Young-woo mentioned it, he couldn’t help but be aware.
Maybe it was just because he was Yoo Ji-ho’s Pair Guide. But still… it felt like everyone saw him the same way Young-woo did.
I should start eating in the office from tomorrow…
With his head hanging low, a sharp voice suddenly cut in from above.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Yoo Ji-ho’s Pair Guide?”
Startled, Hye-seong’s head shot up—and a familiar face came into view.
Scanning anxiously, he soon recognized the voice’s owner: Choi Yoon-sol, his senior from his previous team. The mischievous smile on his face instantly melted Hye-seong’s tense expression.
“Sunbae!”
“Long time no see, Hye-seong!”
“It really has been a while!”
“I know, right? I wanted to treat you to lunch, but I figured you’d be busy adjusting to the new post, so I didn’t reach out. What are the odds we’d run into each other like this? Mind if I sit here?”
“Not at all!”
Choi Yoon-sol plopped his tray down across from Hye-seong and picked up his spoon. Glancing around, Hye-seong asked,
“Where are the other sunbaes?”
“They went off to get something delicious—without me. I’ve got a meeting at 12:30, so I have to scarf this down and run.”
Ah. Hye-seong nodded quietly. Now that he thought about it, back when he used to eat with the seniors on his old team, there were always days when one of them would miss out. Thinking about those times—it already felt like forever ago—brought a strange sense of nostalgia.
They were all still doing just fine, just as they always had.
He was the only one still drifting, untethered.
“So? How’s the life of Yoo Ji-ho’s Pair Guide? You should be happier now that you’ve left our team, right?”
“Ji-ho treats me really well.”
“Seriously? That guy always seemed intense—guess not. That’s a relief.”
In between hurried bites of food, Yoon-sol tilted his head, visibly intrigued.
“Must be nice not having to coordinate team schedules. So how’d you end up pairing so perfectly with Ji-ho?”
“Ah, that’s…”
“Hm?”
The same question that had been bothering him earlier resurfaced. Hye-seong gave a bittersweet smile as he replied.
“We’re not really that compatible. I think he’s just… being kind because I try hard. It’s only temporary, anyway.”
“……”
“I was lucky, that’s all. I doubt I’ll become his official Pair. Still, I’m really grateful.”
With his mouth full of food, Choi Yoon-sol froze for a moment, then reached across the table to give Hye-seong a firm pat on the shoulder.
“Don’t sweat it. You’ve learned a ton this past month—that’s a huge deal. Honestly, that’s a top-tier career experience for any Guide. And you went through it only a month after getting certified. You’ll do great no matter what team you end up on.”
“You think so…?”
“Of course! Heck, if you do get transferred, you should come back to our team!”
With a sparkle in his eye, as if he’d just come up with the best idea ever, Yoon-sol’s words made Hye-seong nod eagerly.
“I’d really like that.”
“Hell yeah. Just don’t go joining some other team, alright? That’s a promise.”
“Got it!”
The shadow over his face lifted, and Hye-seong smiled his usual bright smile again.
“Keep your chin up. Eat well. Oh shit—five minutes left. Crap!”
“Oh—hurry and eat!”
The thought of no longer being able to see Yoo Ji-ho up close after this month made him feel heavy again. But then he reminded himself—this wasn’t really his place. And at least… he had somewhere to go back to. That thought brought a little comfort.
***
The final day of Hye-seong’s temporary assignment as Yoo Ji-ho’s Pair Guide.
As usual, he was dutifully crunching on almonds after the guiding session. But today, his expression was more serious than ever. He was really starting to worry.
Why hasn’t he said anything?
Today marked the exact end of four full weeks since Hye-seong had become Ji-ho’s temporary Pair Guide.
But no one had said a word about what came next. Come Monday, where was he supposed to report to? Where was he going?
What’s going to happen to me?
“Hmmm…”
He let out a sigh, brows furrowed, and reached into the bag to pull out the biggest almond he could find. By now, Ji-ho watching him eat wasn’t even awkward anymore.
Suddenly, he wondered—maybe this whole routine was actually some kind of test to decide if he’d be allowed to stay by Ji-ho’s side.
If that were the case, then guiding and punctuality weren’t the only things that mattered.
Had he eaten his nuts properly in front of Ji-ho? Taken care of his health?
Thinking back, he probably hadn’t done a great job. No matter how you looked at it, he didn’t exactly have the healthiest body to qualify as Ji-ho’s ideal Pair. He’d probably have to be born again to meet that standard. His confidence began to sink again.
As he sat there in a daze, picking out only the tastiest pieces, Ji-ho spoke.
“Is it good?”
“…Yeah.”
Ji-ho handed him a cup, which Hye-seong took and sipped from. These days, Ji-ho had been giving him milk instead of coffee.
“Thank you. Would you like some, too?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
It would’ve been nice to share. But every time he offered, Ji-ho always refused without hesitation. Hye-seong had hoped that maybe—just for today, their last day—he might accept just one. But no, of course not.
It was always better to share the little things. Eating alone in front of someone else was kind of embarrassing, but he figured Ji-ho must have his reasons.
“Do you have a nut allergy or something, Ji-ho?”
“Think I would?”
“Ah… right.”
It was hard to imagine an S-rank Esper having a food allergy. As he gave an awkward laugh, Ji-ho, who had been watching him steadily, spoke again.
“Hye-seong.”
“Yeah…?”
“Ever been told you’d be great at selling heated blankets?”
Heated blankets? Blinking in confusion, Hye-seong asked blankly, and Ji-ho chuckled like he’d just confirmed something.
“Guess not.”
What is he talking about? Shrugging, Hye-seong dug through the bag again when Ji-ho’s voice came once more.
“When you meet people, do you just trust them that easily? Even people you’ve barely known?”
“……”
Raising his head, Hye-seong blinked for a while before finally responding, a beat too late.
“I don’t trust just anyone. I trust you, Ji-ho.”
“……”
He didn’t know why Ji-ho was asking these things. But somehow, it felt like “someone you’ve barely known” was referring to Ji-ho himself.
Ji-ho seemed to have nothing else to say. With a puzzled tilt of his head, Hye-seong popped a walnut into his mouth.
As his thoughts drifted aimlessly, Ji-ho didn’t follow up. Maybe his curiosity had been satisfied.
Then, suddenly, he remembered running into Director Shin this morning at the headquarters building.
Shin had looked at him like a proud parent, then made an offer out of nowhere.
“Hye-seong!”
“Yes! Good morning, Director!”
“So today’s your last day, right? How about a farewell dinner?”
“A dinner?”
There was no reason to say no—so of course, Hye-seong had nodded right away.
Dinner with the Director of the Yeouido Branch of the Supernatural Management Department? All he’d done before was exchange brief morning greetings. Now he was dying to hear what kind of advice the Director might give in person.
And surely, Ji-ho would be there too. Which meant… he’d get to see him twice in one day.
Could that dinner be where I find out my future? If so, it’d be a chance to properly say goodbye.
I hope he comes… I really do.
So, after swallowing a pistachio, Hye-seong asked honestly and without hesitation:
“Ji-ho. You’re coming to the dinner tonight, right?”
“……”
Ji-ho’s eyes, which had been gazing somewhere around Hye-seong’s face, slowly shifted to meet his eyes. Then, one eyebrow arched.
“Dinner?”
“Yes. The Director mentioned it this morning. You haven’t heard?”
“Nope.”
Startled, Hye-seong looked at him wide-eyed.
Wait—he hasn’t heard?
“Couldn’t you come, though?”
At that, Ji-ho suddenly scowled.
“The Director invited me personally?”
He looked like someone trying to confirm the most absurd piece of information in the world. His scowl deepened, and his eyes sharpened.
“No? He didn’t mention you specifically…”
“Then why would I go to something like that?”
Instead of answering, Hye-seong belatedly clamped his lips shut.
Only now did he realize—Ji-ho might hate those kinds of social settings.
Of course. Someone who constantly lived under public scrutiny would naturally hate being in big groups. That was probably why he lived in this huge, quiet place, all by himself.
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry if I upset you…”
Hye-seong apologized and reached for more nuts, but Ji-ho spoke again.
“Do you want me to come?”
“Sorry?”
“You asked me to come. So do you want me there?”
“……”
When he stayed silent, Ji-ho asked again.
“You want me to go with you?”
Blinking rapidly, Hye-seong let out a faint laugh and replied.
“Of course I do!”
“Yeah?”
After asking the same question three times, Ji-ho finally seemed amused by the answer. Encouraged by that reaction, Hye-seong said once more:
“I really hope you’ll come with me, Ji-ho.”
“I wonder if the Director feels the same.”
Ji-ho smirked as he said it. The way he shifted in his seat, his whole expression—it wasn’t just intrigued. He looked genuinely entertained.
“Of course the Director does! Who wouldn’t want you there? He probably just forgot to mention it because he’s so busy.”
“Is that so?”
“Definitely!”
Still smiling, Ji-ho looked at Hye-seong’s bright, sincere face for a moment—then let out a quiet chuckle, like he’d just thought of something amusing.
