And then, Director Shin finally began outright calling Hye-seong’s name.
“Hye-seong! If you’re listening, could you open the door for your dear director? Hmm?”
No matter how desperately Hye-seong looked at him with a pleading face, unable to dash out and open it himself, the man didn’t care.
It was as if he couldn’t hear a thing. He kept toying with Hye-seong’s hand resting on his knee and simply continued watching the movie.
Meanwhile, Hye-seong, watching this unfold, was now practically squirming like a puppy that needed to pee.
His constant, desperate stare eventually prompted Yoo Ji-ho to finally turn and look him in the eyes.
“……”
“……”
He gently grabbed and shook Yoo Ji-ho’s arm, and if this went on a moment longer, tears would’ve welled up in those large eyes.
No matter how you looked at it, he really did resemble a whimpering little mutt.
“Yoo Ji-ho… please…”
With no change in his behavior, and that unrelenting gaze fixed on him, Hye-seong finally called out his name with a pitiful voice.
“…Haah. Fine. Wait here.”
With a sigh, Yoo Ji-ho finally stood up from his seat.
The tightly shut door opened, and Director Shin rushed inside as if afraid it might close again.
“Oh? It’s you? Took your sweet time opening up!”
Yoo Ji-ho, who had never granted permission for entry, made no attempt to hide his revulsion.
“Why are you barging into someone else’s home?”
“What do you mean barging in—why the hell hasn’t the kid shown up once since I reinstated him? It’s been nearly a week. Is he coming back to work tomorrow or what?”
“I told you we’d be together the whole vacation, didn’t I?”
“Don’t make me laugh. What are you, married now? Bet you sent him home already. You little shit—er, I mean, you damn little cat—”
“Hello, Director. It’s been a while.”
“…Huh?”
At the sound of that unusually polite greeting, Director Shin’s head snapped around stiffly.
Sure enough, sitting in Yoo Ji-ho’s place was the rookie Guide who had recently vanished without a trace and thrown the entire Center into chaos.
“……”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Director Shin slowly turned his head back to Yoo Ji-ho. His expression was noticeably different from before.
With Hye-seong standing right in front of them, the two men began to talk with their eyes alone.
“You were seriously with him? Here? All week? With someone else?”
“Say one more stupid thing and you can get the fuck out.”
Even without words, the murderous intent was palpable. Director Shin awkwardly looked away, forcing a smile, then turned to greet Hye-seong.
“Haha, Hye-seong, how have you been? You’re… not hurt anywhere, are you?”
“Ah, no, sir. Yoo Ji-ho has been taking really good care of me. I’m so sorry I didn’t get to greet you properly last time.”
“Uh-huh, no, no… it’s fine…”
Director Shin waved his hand dismissively, still looking a little dazed.
After hearing that Hye-seong had returned of his own volition, Director Shin had chosen not to stir the pot with Yoo Ji-ho.
Truthfully, he’d been enjoying a rare stretch of peace thanks to the famously troublesome, pretty-faced S-rank being unusually quiet for a few days.
But it had never crossed his mind that Hye-seong had been managing Yoo Ji-ho on his own during that time. When Yoo Ji-ho had told him to stop worrying because the Guide was with him, he’d just scoffed and forgotten all about it.
Now, looking at the young Guide with a pitying droop in his brows, Director Shin thought:
That poor thing… What kind of blackmail did he get hit with…?
Then he gestured subtly toward the door and whispered to Hye-seong like he was coaxing a child.
“Hye-seong, how about we go now?”
“Huh? Go?”
“Come on now, let’s go with the director! Time to go home!”
He even reached out his hand and shook it energetically, urging him to come.
Flustered, Hye-seong glanced between the two of them, fumbling for a response. Seeing this, Yoo Ji-ho finally spoke up.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Stay out of this. Come on now! What are you doing in a place like this, Hye-seong? Let’s get you home! Come with the director!”
Strangely, this time Yoo Ji-ho really didn’t say anything further. He just turned his head and looked down quietly at Hye-seong, who stood beside him.
“……”
“……”
“……”
As silence settled, Hye-seong turned his head and met Yoo Ji-ho’s gaze, eyes darting in confusion.
His pale eyes wavered violently under Yoo Ji-ho’s steady stare.
And just as Yoo Ji-ho’s expression began to harden, he felt the faintest tug on his hand.
Hye-seong had grabbed the sleeve of his shirt—almost like he was trying to hide behind the arm he’d pulled. Reading the gesture, Yoo Ji-ho’s lips curled into a soft smile. It seemed there was a deeper reason for Hye-seong’s hesitation.
Still gazing at him, Yoo Ji-ho spoke in a breezy tone.
“That’s a problem. Hye-seong says he doesn’t want to follow an old guy with a big belly like you.”
“…What?”
“No, that’s not what I meant…!”
Hye-seong frantically waved his hands in denial, his face a picture of panic.
“Not an old guy with a belly like the Director…! That’s not it…! It’s just that Yoo Ji-ho said I could stay until I returned to the dorm…!”
“……”
“A-anyway, thank you so much for coming to check on me.”
Mumbling incoherently, Hye-seong bowed his head politely to the director, who stood frozen in disbelief.
He had just refused the request of someone absurdly higher up the hierarchy. That fact alone had his heart pounding uncontrollably.
“What is even going on? You—what the hell is this?”
And Director Shin still couldn’t wrap his head around what he was witnessing. He was sputtering like a malfunctioning robot vacuum.
“Wha—huh?”
Was this young Guide really staying here by choice?
As if reading his thoughts, Yoo Ji-ho smiled sweetly and said:
“I told you—Hye-seong’s totally into me.”
“…Huh?”
“Right, Hye-seong?”
Avoiding their eyes, Hye-seong hesitated. His heart was still thumping wildly for some reason he couldn’t quite name.
“Um…”
When Yoo Ji-ho said “into,” he clearly meant it in the fanboy sense. That was all it was—nothing strange. And yet, for some reason, the words were hard to say this time.
“…Of course. I’m your fan, after all.”
After a long pause, Hye-seong finally nodded. Director Shin let out a breathy, incredulous laugh.
“Huh.”
“Well, I’ll let you two chat. I’ll go make some coffee…”
Letting go of Yoo Ji-ho’s sleeve, Hye-seong muttered softly and left the room. Even though he could feel both their eyes on him, he kept his gaze fixed on the floor as he hurried out.
He made his way to the kitchen like he was fleeing. Once there, he stood by the coffee machine Yoo Ji-ho had taught him to use recently.
He’d botched the hand-drip coffee attempt, but this one only needed a few button presses—easy enough to manage.
I’ll make theirs first, then brew one for myself too.
He pressed the button and reached for the cups in the cabinet, only to stop mid-motion. The words Yoo Ji-ho had said earlier came back to him, uninvited.
“I told you—Hye-seong’s totally into me.”
“……”
“Right, Hye-seong?”
Back when he’d first confessed to being a fan, and even later when Yoo Ji-ho brought it up, Hye-seong had never been shaken by those words.
He had always liked Yoo Ji-ho as a fan. Someone he admired from afar, someone who inspired him.
But just now… those words had sounded like something else. Like he knew everything—everything—and was saying it because of that.
To Hye-seong, the time he’d spent watching Yoo Ji-ho meant more than the years before he knew him. Wasn’t there a saying about a frog getting killed by a carelessly thrown rock? Even the casual kindness Yoo Ji-ho showed seemed to have derailed the feelings he’d been fostering for seven years.
Like it had been planned. Like he’d been waiting for this all along.
“This isn’t right…”
This really wasn’t right. Staring down blankly at the cups in his hands, Hye-seong let out a deep sigh.
Director Shin entered the room with a puzzled look, following Yoo Ji-ho. He was still convinced Hye-seong must be being blackmailed somehow.
He’d thought just earlier that Yoo Ji-ho must’ve found some leverage on Hye-seong. But now that he thought about it… if Yoo Ji-ho was the one with the leverage, it didn’t make sense unless he intended to get rid of the person.
He wasn’t the type to threaten people just to keep them around.
Yoo Ji-ho hated clingy people around him, period.
“Actually… I’ve been following him already.”
“Huh…?”
“It’s been a few days now. But he won’t meet with me. Guess he’s super busy lately…”
“Wait, what? He won’t meet you? …That’s it?”
If anything, that young Guide had been very clingy…
Frankly, Director Shin would bet that no one in Yoo Ji-ho’s life had ever clung to him more than that reckless little pup of a Guide. The fact that he was still alive and well was a miracle in itself.
He remembered begging Yoo Ji-ho to play coy with the Pair Guide they’d just barely managed to match him with. Had that still been going on all this time?
“…Creepy.”
While Director Shin murmured to himself, Yoo Ji-ho headed for the living room and wordlessly dropped onto the sofa. It was a single-seater that faced the kitchen—clearly the prime spot.
He crossed his legs, leaned back in comfort, and then looked up at the director, who was still standing beside him.
“What are you doing? Sit down.”
“…Your attitude hasn’t changed a bit. But how the hell…?”
As he looked over Yoo Ji-ho for the first time in a week, he was visibly impressed.
Yoo Ji-ho completely ignored him and turned his attention back to the kitchen. Tilting his head slightly, he watched Hye-seong moving around, and then, still staring in that direction, he spoke up.
“Why’re you showing up now? I’m returning to work tomorrow.”
Director Shin finally took a seat on the longer sofa, acting casual.
“Well, you were impossible to reach. I was too anxious to just sit around.”
“……”
“Hahahahaha.”
Yoo Ji-ho’s eyes said that’s bullshit, loud and clear. Director Shin awkwardly averted his gaze, chuckling nervously.
And it was bullshit. Whenever Yoo Ji-ho went off-grid, Director Shin would celebrate the peace and quiet like a national holiday.
“Well, actually… The Minister asked me to double-check next week’s Jeju schedule…”
“Ah.”
Only then did Yoo Ji-ho frown, as if finally recalling something. Director Shin, who had clearly come with an agenda, kept glancing toward the kitchen where Yoo Ji-ho’s eyes lingered.
“Hey, but seriously, what’s the deal with him? He’s really been here the whole time? But Hye-seong wasn’t on vacation, right?”
“Hye-seong worked his ass off all week.”
“…Huh? What was that?”
Now frozen like a statue, Director Shin leaned forward, eyes gleaming as he asked again.
“Really now?”
His wide eyes sparkled with joy—both at the good news and at the hopeful future it hinted at.
“Don’t piss me off. Fuck off.”
At the overly doting reaction, like a grandfather hearing news about his precious grandchild, Yoo Ji-ho immediately expressed his disgust.
