Baek Seo-ha traced a droplet of water clinging to his cup with his index finger and began drawing shapes on the table. A circle, square, triangle, heart, star, diamond, a long rectangle, an oval… As he drew whatever came to mind, the first circle he’d made faded away, leaving only the faintest trace.
Then I’ll just draw it again. Circle, square, triangle…
“What are you doing over there?”
“Drawing.”
“And why the hell are you doing that here?”
As Kim Beom-hak looked at him like he couldn’t make sense of it, Seo-ha simply shrugged and resumed drawing. Circle, triangle, square…
“I’m bored.”
“Then go do your job.”
“I already told everyone I quit. How am I supposed to shamelessly waltz back in?”
“I told them it was on hold.”
“Well, I don’t like that.”
Seo-ha drained the melted iced Americano in one go. Then, flipping the cup upside down and shaking it to see if anything was left, he heard Kim Beom-hak let out a sound of disgust. He was ridiculously picky for someone who didn’t look it.
“There’s a rumor going around that you and I have that kind of relationship. Imagine you tell them my resignation’s on hold—they’ll just say you couldn’t let me go because we’re that kind of thing. Is that what you want? To fan the flames of a scandal with me?”
“…Stop talking.”
When Kim Beom-hak pressed his fingers to his temple and sighed, Seo-ha shut up and resumed drawing. The cup had no more droplets since he’d finished the coffee, but that didn’t matter. After all, drawing was about expressing what floated up in your mind. No one else could see the trail his finger left, but as long as he was satisfied, that was enough. With that in mind: circle, triangle, square.
“So you’re staging a protest because I haven’t approved your resignation yet?”
“If it were me, I’d just finish the job without dragging it out.”
In other words, since this is a protest, he wanted it dealt with quickly. Seo-ha leaned back against the sofa as if he were about to lie down.
“I’m going to stay here until it’s done. If you want me gone, then approve it already.”
“I told you, it’s not happening yet.”
“Then I’ve got no choice. I’ll keep hanging around here, and before you know it, the rumors will snowball out of control. People will be certain we’re involved.”
With his hands clasped behind his head, Seo-ha gazed up at the ceiling. The weather was nice, yet here he was, staring at a bleak ceiling…
“Not bad. Not bad at all.”
Doing nothing had its perks—his heart felt lighter. Honestly, if he wasn’t working, did it really matter whether he was outside enjoying the weather or stuck in an office?
Seo-ha rolled over and looked up at Kim Beom-hak.
“I’ve changed my mind. Don’t approve it anytime soon. I’m gonna keep goofing off like this.”
“Y-You little…”
Watching Kim Beom-hak’s fingers twitch with frustration, Seo-ha gave him a playful wink before flopping back down onto the sofa.
Coming into the director’s office and sprawling out just because his resignation hadn’t been processed—this wasn’t something just anyone could pull off. Only someone like him could get away with it.
‘A guy with a complicated story like mine.’
He even looked like someone weighed down by a million issues. Maybe that’s why the director couldn’t bring himself to kick him out…
Knock knock.
“Come in.”
The moment Kim Beom-hak gave permission, the door burst open and Seo-ha sat up straight like he’d been jolted.
What the hell?
His eyes widened at the man walking in, only to quickly shift sideways. Seeing how warmly Kim Beom-hak welcomed Han Ju-oh—like he’d been expecting him—made everything clear.
“You weren’t letting me hang around because you felt sorry for me?”
“I left you here so he could come collect you.”
“Wow…”
Seo-ha let out a hollow laugh, dumbfounded, while Kim Beom-hak not only shook hands with Han Ju-oh but even gave his shoulder a hearty pat.
“Take good care of our Guide Baek.”
“I won’t disappoint.”
Seo-ha hadn’t even said anything, and they were already making a big deal out of it.
Anyone watching would think he was handing off his daughter at a wedding.
“You’re acting like the bride’s dad.”
It wasn’t like they were standing on a wedding aisle, but somehow this felt just like that. Must’ve been his imagination.
“Stay quiet.”
“I will, if it doesn’t concern me.”
When Seo-ha shot back, Kim Beom-hak made no attempt to hide his irritation. Wasn’t Seo-ha the one who should feel more upset that no one told him Han Ju-oh was coming?
“I heard you did a matching test with Esper Han Ju-oh.”
Ah. So that’s why the director was sulking.
“That’s what you were upset about? It wasn’t anything special, so I didn’t mention it.”
That was the last matching test he took. Naturally, the result came out to 3%.
I’m supposed to tell you things like this?
“‘Nothing special’? If it’s nothing, then why is Esper Han Ju-oh here? And the White Guild even contacted us.”
Kim Beom-hak shot a glance at Han Ju-oh as he scolded Seo-ha. Seeing the signs of an impending lecture, Seo-ha rose from the sofa where he’d been lazily sprawled and began straightening his wrinkled clothes. He dusted off his arms and smoothed down his pants while his mind raced.
The result of the matching test with Han Ju-oh had been, as always, 3%. Everyone else who had seen that result had walked away, disappointed. But despite that same low score, Han Ju-oh had proposed pairing with him.
He’d never thought he’d become anyone’s permanent pair Guide… It had been so sudden that he couldn’t take Han Ju-oh’s offer at face value.
That hadn’t changed even now.
“Why did you come?”
He deliberately kept his distance from Han Ju-oh.
“You keep switching how you talk—it’s dizzying. Pick one. You’re the one who talks down to me half the time…”
“How dare Your Lordship arrive at high noon without a single word of notice.”
Seo-ha even clasped his hands respectfully and looked up at Han Ju-oh. He was putting on the act of a humble subject addressing a far-removed elder. Han Ju-oh’s brow twitched in displeasure.
Like I care. Seo-ha had zero intention of playing along, so he leaned further into his defiance. Watching him from the side, Kim Beom-hak clucked his tongue.
What now? Should I just smile and take the groom’s hand? Seo-ha shot a sharp glare in Beom-hak’s direction.
“That petty bastard.”
When Kim Beom-hak muttered that while smacking a hand to his forehead, Seo-ha snorted right in his face and turned away.
“I came to pick you up.”
Han Ju-oh’s words were casually ignored. Seo-ha already knew what was coming, and his response was just as predictable. They’d go back and forth over the same lines. No need to waste time or energy on a conversation with a foregone conclusion.
Just imagining it made him feel drained. Seo-ha waved a hand lazily.
“There’s nothing left to talk about. Just go. We’re not going to see each other again, and there’s even less reason to speak.”
That should be enough for a farewell. He turned away from Han Ju-oh without hesitation—only to lock eyes with Kim Beom-hak.
‘Why would you throw away such a good opportunity?’
Beom-hak’s expression was twisted with frustration, practically shouting the thought. Seo-ha let out a quiet scoff.
‘This looks like a good opportunity to you?’
On the surface, sure, being the designated pair Guide to an S-Class Esper sounded impressive. But in reality?
He could barely transmit a trickle of energy. Better to never grab his hand than to constantly avert his gaze in shame every time he failed to deliver.
‘You really won’t reconsider?’
When Kim Beom-hak tried again with an imploring look, Seo-ha responded with a smile—then immediately hardened his expression.
‘Nope.’
From the moment he’d handed in his resignation, he’d decided—there was no going back.
“Y-You…”
Kim Beom-hak reached out like he was about to drag him back, but Seo-ha deflected it with a grin. There was a well-known saying: no one could resist a smile. So he smiled just right—just enough to slip away from that grasp.
He had no intention of continuing as a Guide. He’d made that clear. He’d even turned in his resignation in full. Now it was time to walk away with a light heart.
“I’m off.”
Seo-ha opened the door, waving toward both Kim Beom-hak and Han Ju-oh.
Finally, he was free to leave.
***
“Whew… That’s the last of it.”
Seo-ha wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm and looked down at the box. He’d submitted his resignation and was now packing up to clear out of the dorm. He’d thought there wouldn’t be much, but the amount of stuff had added up quickly.
“If I’d known, I would’ve called Moon Roi.”
The muttered regret wasn’t about hiring movers—it was about using his friend for labor. Not that there was anyone around to hear it anyway.
“Now once I get all this moved—ugh.”
As he glanced toward the stack of boxes in the corner, a sudden gust of wind forced him to raise an arm to shield his eyes. His face twisted in irritation.
He’d left the window open because of the dust, but the wind blowing in now was more like a full-on typhoon. He wanted to check where it was coming from, but he couldn’t even open his eyes. He stumbled back a step, wincing.
“Ugh, seriously… Did a gate open?”
Gates could appear anywhere, without warning. Once they settled, you could measure their level and predict when they might breach. But when one was just forming, there was no way to shield the surroundings from the impact.
As the wind briefly died down, Seo-ha squinted and peeked out. The boxes he’d worked so hard to pack were now falling apart, the blue tape having peeled off.
Just as expected, a gate had appeared.
And unexpectedly—there was a man standing there, blocking some of the wind.
“Fuck…”
Would it have killed you to show up before I finished packing?
He didn’t even know if he was cursing at the gate or at Han Ju-oh.
