Baek Seo-ha stormed up to Han Ju-oh, fuming, and yanked his wrist.
Still staring directly into Han Ju-oh’s eyes, he channeled his energy into him. Pathetically, the flow was severed almost immediately after just a small amount had passed through.
“See that? That’s all the energy I can give you.”
“Run the test properly.”
“You should know when to give up, I’ve already said enough.”
Seo-ha looked at Han Ju-oh, but the words felt more like something he was saying to himself, reflected in Han Ju-oh’s eyes. Even if they ran an official test, there was no way the matching rate would change, and Seo-ha scoffed at Han Ju-oh’s relentless stubbornness.
He’d already given up—why couldn’t Han Ju-oh do the same?
“I’m not giving up.”
“Why? I said I’m not interested, so why do you keep insisting on doing the test?”
At this point, he genuinely wanted to crack open Han Ju-oh’s skull and see what was inside.
Why was he clinging so desperately when he’d already been told he wasn’t the right match?
As Seo-ha stared intently, Han Ju-oh finally opened his tightly shut lips.
“Because I want to.”
Seo-ha flinched, then slowly raised his head.
“What?”
“I said, I want you.”
Seo-ha’s heart thudded in his chest.
Even though no one was looking for him anymore, and Han Ju-oh’s constant appearances had become more of an annoyance, that moment struck a chord. He’d almost reached out and asked Han Ju-oh to pull him up. Almost. But he knew he’d only end up disappointed again, so he bit down hard on his lower lip to ignore the pounding in his chest.
“I’m sick of this back-and-forth, so just go.”
He flippantly waved his hand. It seemed Han Ju-oh wasn’t a fan of their back-and-forth either, which felt like a clash of spear and shield. He said nothing more—and instead lifted Seo-ha off the ground.
“Huh?”
“Hold on tight.”
“Wait, what the hell?!”
***
Seo-ha looked up at the tall building. Having been carried there in Han Ju-oh’s arms, it felt like they’d arrived in the blink of an eye—which was only slightly exaggerated. All the effort he’d put into running away now felt pointless, and his shoulders drooped in defeat.
The fact that he wound up spending the day exactly how Han Ju-oh wanted – after all that resistance – left Seo-ha feeling utterly drained.
“You said there’s a new guild here?”
“The whole building is the White Guild.”
With Han Ju-oh’s precise clarification, there wasn’t much else to say. A brand-new guild owning an entire high-rise? Seo-ha clicked his tongue as he stared up at the flashy exterior.
He thought back to the Center he used to work at. Backed by the state, the facilities weren’t bad—practically a public servant position—but it wasn’t anything extravagant either.
“Do we really have to do the test here?”
Frustration bled into his tone, and he dropped the honorifics. But Han Ju-oh didn’t comment, so it stuck. Honestly, if it was going to come to this, he should’ve just accepted it from the start. They were the same age, and yet Han Ju-oh insisted on playing petty games.
“Why?”
“Well, I mean, we’re not even from the same organization. Why should I come here? If you really want the test, just come to our Center…”
“You’re not affiliated anymore, are you?”
Han Ju-oh’s blunt, unvarnished truth shut Seo-ha right up. Technically, his resignation hadn’t been finalized yet, so he was still formally part of the Center, but realistically, he already had one foot out the door.
To be honest, aside from Director Kim Beom-hak, there wasn’t anyone left there who had warm feelings toward him—it had been a long time since he’d felt like he belonged.
“Follow me.”
Han Ju-oh entered the building first, and Seo-ha, now left alone, glanced back over his shoulder.
‘Should I just run for it now?’
The urge to bolt tugged at him, and he looked around. But the moment they took to the sky flashed in his mind, the wild wind slapped against him so fiercely that it knocked some sense back into him. After all, this guy had flown through that same raging wind just to find him. Wouldn’t it be a bit much to keep resisting?
And yet, now that he was here, he still didn’t want to go through with it.
“If you don’t want to hold hands, then follow me.”
He wanted to avoid Han Ju-oh’s threat, so Seo-ha slumped his shoulders and dragged himself into the building.
***
After a brief greeting with Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon, Seo-ha was dragged straight to the testing room and found himself staring blankly at the matching machine.
Just looking at it made his stomach churn and his hands tremble.
There was a time when he’d get giddy just seeing the machine—so excited he didn’t know what to do with himself.
Sitting next to an Esper inside that thing, watching the matching rate appear, hearts pounding in sync, dreaming about the future—that was what used to be.
“God, this is why I didn’t want to come.”
He sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead, drained of energy.
While Seo-ha was struggling to calm his stormy emotions, Kim Mi-yeon and Han Ju-oh held a quiet conversation in the corner.
“You really dragged him here, huh.”
Kim Mi-yeon shook her head when she saw Seo-ha. After showing so much interest in Baek Seo-ha, Han Ju-oh had finally gone so far as to involve the entire guild. She looked at Han Ju-oh with eyes full of exasperation at his impulsiveness.
“Is the test ready?”
Seeing the eagerness in Han Ju-oh’s expression, Kim Mi-yeon let out a sigh.
“There’s nothing we need to prepare. All we need is for Guide Baek to take a moment and mentally prepare himself.”
There was a heaviness in her voice. Sensing it, Han Ju-oh turned to look at her. Kim Mi-yeon, feeling his gaze, met his eyes and asked, “What?”
A subtle tension hung in the air as both their eyes reflected confusion.
“Is there even a need for mental preparation?”
For Espers and Guides, matching tests were as routine as eating a meal. But Kim Mi-yeon shook her head at his question.
“At least not for Guide Baek. Wouldn’t you be scared if the same result came up every time you took the test? If it were me, I wouldn’t even go in… Wait, what the—!”
As she turned to look at Seo-ha, Han Ju-oh suddenly grabbed her shoulder and forcefully spun her away, making her yelp in surprise. Seo-ha glanced over at the commotion, but Han Ju-oh merely shook his head as if it was nothing and then pulled Kim Mi-yeon out of the room altogether.
“What the hell was that?”
Rubbing her arm where she’d been grabbed, Kim Mi-yeon freed herself and stared at Han Ju-oh, who now wore a deep crease between his brows.
“Same matching rate?”
“Guide Baek only matches at 3%. Why are you acting like this is news?”
She stared at Han Ju-oh like she couldn’t believe he didn’t know this already, then called for her assistant and ordered them to bring Baek Seo-ha’s profile file. Crossing her arms, Kim Mi-yeon looked back at him.
“I’ve had a bad feeling about this. How much do you even know about Guide Baek?”
Han Ju-oh didn’t respond, his eyes locked on Baek Seo-ha.
“You had your first guiding with him, right?”
“I thought he was doing it on purpose.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I thought he was intentionally cutting the guiding short.”
When Han Ju-oh pressed a hand to his forehead and muttered, Kim Mi-yeon’s jaw dropped.
“Cutting the guiding short? That Guide Baek?”
“Because he said I wasn’t his match.”
Recalling the conversations he’d had with Baek Seo-ha, Han Ju-oh shook his head.
“Didn’t you notice anything strange?”
“When would I have the luxury for that?”
“…Ah.”
Kim Mi-yeon, knowing Han Ju-oh’s circumstances better than anyone, fell silent.
“I forgot something. I’ll step out for a bit—go ahead with the test.”
With a light slap to her forehead, she turned and briskly walked away from Han Ju-oh. Whether it was truly urgent or not, she moved so quickly that she was soon out of sight.
Left alone, Han Ju-oh replayed Seo-ha’s earlier words in his mind.
“I’ve been doing a good job hiding it until now. I’ve been running and avoiding it well—why are you so obsessed with catching me?”
He finally understood what Baek Seo-ha had been feeling when he shouted those words.
He hadn’t known a thing, yet he kept pushing. His ignorance had ended up hurting someone else.
“…Hey.”
At the sound of someone calling him, Han Ju-oh lifted his head. Seo-ha scratched his neck awkwardly as he spoke.
“Judging by the vibe, we probably don’t need to do the test, right?”
He hadn’t heard the conversation, but it was easy enough to guess.
“This isn’t my first time going through this, you know… I figured you probably heard it’ll just come out 3% again and were hesitating.”
His gaze suggested Han Ju-oh might be having second thoughts, even after bringing him all the way here.
“I don’t mind, so let’s just go back.”
Tilting his head this way and that like he was trying to shake off the exhaustion, Seo-ha passed by Han Ju-oh. He seemed lighter now, maybe even relieved that he didn’t have to go through with the test after all—his expression looked far better than when they’d first entered the building.
But that didn’t last long.
Han Ju-oh moved like the wind and stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
“Don’t tell me… you still want to do the test?”
So they’d come all the way here, and now there was no turning back?
Tired of arguing, Seo-ha gave a half-hearted nod.
“Fine. Let’s just get it over with.”
Too worn out to keep protesting, Seo-ha turned on his own and headed toward the machine.
Cramming himself into the test chamber, Seo-ha took his seat. Han Ju-oh joined him and sat beside him. As the machine scanned the two, their faces appeared on the screen, followed by the emergence of the familiar glowing hemispheres.
That thing they always had to place their hands on.
Seo-ha stared at the dome that always left him disappointed—the one that glowed a dull green—and reluctantly lifted his hand. Han Ju-oh did the same with the hemisphere on his side, beginning the test between them.
There was only one thing to do now. Seo-ha pushed his energy into the device while Han Ju-oh received it through the machine.
It wasn’t a long process, but it took just enough time to feel boring. All they could really do now was space out or talk.
“I’ve been thinking about why you keep clinging to me like this.”
Seo-ha fell silent for a moment, feeling the warmth of the dome beneath his palm, then turned his head slightly to the side.
“And no matter how much I think about it… there’s only one reason I can come up with.”
