As soon as the sun rose, Yoo Ji-ho ditched Director Shin and the rest of the Yeouido people, taking only Hye-seong with him as he headed for the airport.
But for various reasons, that plan fell through. In the end, they compromised by moving up the schedule and all departing early together.
“That weird fucker Yoo Ji-ho! What the hell is he doing now?! What the actual hell?!”
“Director, please, calm down…!”
And so, as they walked through the airstrip to return to Seoul, Director Shin had been whining at full volume from the very start.
“I thought maybe he’d mellowed out, so I came all the way here—didn’t even get to eat grilled hairtail, or black pork, or sashimi! Got no sleep from dawn and now I have to be dragged off like this? Ugh, this is on me. I should’ve known better than to trust that guy!”
As he threw a resentful look at Ji-ho, Director Shin tilted his head. Secretary Kang, watching nervously from the side, asked,
“Is something wrong, sir?”
“Secretary Kang, what are they doing over there? What’s that about?”
“Sir?”
Shin pointed with his chin at the two people walking ahead.
That odd tension he’d felt from the hotel was still lingering between them—even now, at the airstrip.
“I am really Yoo Ji-ho’s… I swear! Please believe me…!”
“I don’t believe you. Get lost.”
“I’m serious!”
Ji-ho kept walking steadily, eyes fixed forward. Right beside him, Hye-seong was tagging along, flitting left and right around him, chattering nonstop.
Eventually, Ji-ho grabbed Hye-seong, who kept getting in his way, and made him stop.
“I’ve told you more than once. I don’t care if you like me. But quitting as my Guide because of it makes no sense.”
“Huh…”
Ji-ho was treating all the turmoil in Hye-seong’s head, all the agonizing that had led to his decision, as if none of it mattered. His stance, in its own way, was consistent.
“If you like me, your only thought should be staying by my side. What does liking me have to do with Guiding?”
“It has…!”
There’s no way it doesn’t.
Hye-seong bit his lip, swallowing those words. But Ji-ho’s expression was nothing but calm. For a moment, Hye-seong wondered if he was just messing with him—but the look on his face told him otherwise. Everything he’d been saying since yesterday had been sincere.
“You’re saying this because if I quit, you’ll have to find another Guide, right?”
“……”
Ji-ho stopped walking and looked down at him.
The sharp gaze made Hye-seong flinch.
Maybe I asked something too obvious.
But it had to be said. No matter what, he didn’t want even his feelings to be denied.
“…I really do like you.”
“Sure. If you’re going to keep saying that, then fine—let’s go with that for now.”
“What…”
Ji-ho started walking again. Hye-seong, feeling wronged, wanted to punch himself in the chest.
Even on the plane, he sat next to Ji-ho, glancing at him every now and then.
After what happened yesterday, he’d assumed everything would change. But Ji-ho acted as though nothing had happened at all.
He didn’t even seem the slightest bit awkward. It was almost impressive, how he could treat it like it truly never happened. Hye-seong wished he could do the same. But there was something he had to ask.
“Ji-ho… about what I mentioned yesterday…”
Ji-ho closed the book he’d been reading with a snap and looked at him.
“What about it?”
“……”
“That you like me?”
“…Yeah.”
As if it were nothing, Ji-ho brought it up, like he hadn’t just been pretending to forget all of it.
Hye-seong blinked rapidly, but there wasn’t really any other answer he could give. Ji-ho raised a brow and asked,
“So what about it?”
“So then… what you want is for me to stay on as your Pair Guide?”
“Yeah. Just keep doing what you’ve always done. Just stay by my side like you have been.”
“But… if I like you, wouldn’t that make things uncomfortable for you?”
Ji-ho raised his brow again, like he didn’t get the question.
“Not really.”
So liking him… didn’t disqualify him as Ji-ho’s Guide?
It meant he’d avoided the worst-case scenario he’d been dreading all this time. But still, it felt strange.
“Isn’t that… kind of weird?”
“Why? I’m fine with it.”
“……”
He was being generous right now.
What hurt the most when Hye-seong realized his feelings was the thought that he might not be able to stay by Ji-ho’s side anymore. That was why he’d been so emotional, why he’d cried as if confessing a sin.
To Hye-seong, having feelings for Ji-ho meant he had to give up his place as his Pair Guide and walk away.
But Ji-ho seemed to think differently.
Could it really be okay not to leave? Was having someone with a one-sided crush guiding him not nearly as risky as he had feared? Was it truly so insignificant?
Or maybe… it did bother him, and this was just a show of kindness, since Hye-seong had tried to quit. He had said, “I’m fine with it.” That line of questioning—whether he really meant what he said about liking him—was still puzzling, but…
As Hye-seong sat in confusion, Ji-ho spoke again.
“I honestly don’t get what you find so weird. And your attitude since yesterday—I don’t get that either. Based on what you said, shouldn’t you be the one clinging to stay by my side as my Guide? No matter how you look at it, that’s the only way you’d get to keep seeing me.”
“…Huh?”
Seeing his dazed expression, Ji-ho let out a soft chuckle.
“Just making a point.”
“……”
How could he be so nonchalant? Hye-seong chewed at his lip as he looked at him.
Being Ji-ho’s Pair Guide was such a valuable opportunity that drawing a line between personal feelings and professionalism was crucial for Hye-seong.
This kind of thing happened all the time—it was a common mistake, and one that rarely occurred once someone gained more experience. Even Espers knew these feelings often turned out to be nothing more than a fleeting illusion caused by physical contact.
But Hye-seong had never seen his feelings for Ji-ho as just a passing mistake. Still, to others, that’s probably how it would look. Especially to someone like Ji-ho, who’d likely seen this sort of thing countless times before—it must seem ridiculous.
If Director Shin or Dr. Na found out, they’d be severely disappointed in Hye-seong. They might even scold Ji-ho for choosing him as a Pair Guide in the first place, saying, See? This is why we don’t assign rookies.
“…If anyone else finds out about this, I’m sure they’ll all say it’s absurd.”
I really ruined everything, he thought. Everyone believed in me…
“Let them.”
“……”
He had spoken seriously, but Ji-ho just shrugged, looking completely uninterested. It was far from the attitude of someone in the public eye, constantly under scrutiny.
“Just because you said you like me doesn’t mean we need to decide your future right this second. You were impulsive yesterday when you brought it up, weren’t you?”
“……”
“And besides… you don’t even know me that well yet.”
He said something vague, then paused. After a moment, he continued calmly.
“So let’s both take some time to think. I’d rather not talk about this again for now.”
Ah…
Hye-seong closed his mouth.
Even though Ji-ho’s behavior since the confession had been baffling, what he just said was undeniably true—there was no need to make any big decisions right now.
It had been a careless mistake. He’d impulsively spilled his heart, and then expected the other person—who was probably confused—to immediately hand down a judgment. Thinking about it, it was incredibly selfish of him.
If Ji-ho did end up needing to find a new Pair Guide, it would take time. And even if he said he was fine now, his feelings might change later. Ji-ho had said it himself—he needed time to think, too.
“Ji-ho, I think I was too hasty. I won’t bring it up again…”
“Good. Then you’re canceling that whole ‘I’m quitting’ thing too.”
“…Yeah.”
When he answered quietly, Ji-ho lifted a hand and gently patted his head.
“You don’t know enough about me to be making decisions that fast anyway.”
“Not enough… as in… what?”
“Whatever you’re feeling—it’ll disappear soon enough. Don’t do anything you’ll regret later.”
Startled, Hye-seong looked up at him, but Ji-ho’s hand, stroking his head, was nothing but soft—as if calming him.
And that softness only made it harder to think clearly.
