Baek Seo-ha tapped Han Ju-oh’s leg, unable to keep looking down at him.
“Move over.”
Han Ju-oh, not fully awake yet, scooted back and made some space. Seo-ha sat down heavily, almost throwing himself onto the bed. It was his first time sitting on it in a week. He thought it would feel familiar, having used it for years, but perhaps because of how unsettled he felt, it all felt strangely foreign.
“Good thing I didn’t pack it.”
Never mind the bed—thankfully, he hadn’t packed the blanket either. He had bought it himself, sure, but it was too bulky to take with him when he was packing, so he left it behind—and now someone else was putting it to good use.
‘What is this, a rabbit hiding in a cave or something?’
Seo-ha sat back lazily, hands still in his pockets, and stared disapprovingly at the way Han Ju-oh was curled up tightly. To anyone who didn’t know the situation, it would look like Seo-ha was robbing a drunk guy.
“Hey…”
The politeness was gone.
***
As the zipper of his jacket scraped against his lips, Seo-ha tilted his chin up and jerked his face back. He could’ve just unzipped it, but the way he moved his head around instead only made him look more like a delinquent. Lee Gyu-han, the Esper who had helped let Seo-ha in, watched nervously.
That Seo-ha was a Guide and Han Ju-oh an S-Class Esper didn’t even factor into the situation. Coercion wasn’t something decided by physical strength alone.
“Don’t tell me he’s going to try to force a matching test by threatening him?”
Lee Gyu-han muttered to himself. He had assumed Seo-ha would be easy to manipulate with a bit of sweet talk. But if he thought threats worked on Han Ju-oh, then Baek Seo-ha would push things in that direction no matter what.
“What if Han Ju-oh ends up lashing out?”
Lee Gyu-han couldn’t hide the anxiety creeping into his voice. He debated whether to intervene, but then flinched and froze. He felt like a rabbit caught in front of a snake.
A cold sweat trickled from his forehead down past his temple. His eyes met Han Ju-oh’s.
‘Don’t come closer.’
The wariness and menace in Han Ju-oh’s eyes made Lee Gyu-han swallow hard. That look was a warning: Don’t even think about laying a finger on my Guide.
No other Guide had ever gotten close to him, yet Baek Seo-ha sat down beside him like it was nothing…
A crushing, invisible pressure coiled around his body. The unspoken threat was clear: Don’t interfere.
Lee Gyu-han barely managed a nod. Only then did the oppressive force strangling him finally dissipate.
“Hff—”
Gasping, Lee Gyu-han clutched his throat and drew in a ragged breath. This was no longer his place to meddle.
***
Unaware of the silent exchange between Espers, Seo-ha bit hard on his lower lip. All he had said to Han Ju-oh so far was “Hey…” He had to explain what was going on—but couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
Once you say something, it becomes real—even if it wasn’t before. That was one of Seo-ha’s core beliefs. Not that he hadn’t broken that belief more times than he could count, but this time he had no choice but to hold to it. Because the one listening was Han Ju-oh.
Seo-ha glanced down at him. Maybe he had been grinding through the dungeon nonstop, because he looked even more worn out than he had a week ago—completely pitiful.
‘Pathetic bastard.’
Even with his sunken face, his eyes still gleamed like a predator lying in wait. The contrast was almost laughable.
‘No wonder I can’t get the words out.’
So what if he curled up like a wounded kitten? The second he found an opening, he’d pounce like a wolf.
“We’re not pairing up.”
“Tch.”
Han Ju-oh instantly dropped the pitiful act. With no need to fake it anymore, he straightened up.
For a moment, it felt like a kitten had suddenly transformed into a tiger. Seo-ha couldn’t help but click his tongue in disbelief.
“Before we go any further, let me ask you something. Why the hell are you so obsessed with me?”
Maybe that was the question he should’ve asked from the very beginning. But afraid of getting hurt, he’d only focused on defending himself. If he’d just accepted Han Ju-oh with an open heart, he probably would’ve asked that a long time ago. They’d taken a long detour to get here.
“……”
Seo-ha frowned when there was no reply. He had taken the initiative, so he expected Han Ju-oh to respond immediately.
But instead, Han Ju-oh furrowed his brows, blinked a few times, then even bit his lip—as if lost in thought.
“We’ve never actually had a proper conversation.”
‘What the hell is he saying?’ Seo-ha had asked him why he was so obsessed—but it’s not like they’d never spoken before.
“Then what were all our previous conversations supposed to be?”
“I only realized it after I saw your match rate was just 3%.”
Seo-ha didn’t get it right away and scowled.
“We’ve done guiding before. What are you talking about? The numbers even showed up on the watch.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what? Wait, so you thought I was only guiding you 3% on purpose or something…”
Seo-ha began muttering with disbelief, but his voice gradually trailed off as a horrible suspicion took root.
No way… really?
“You seriously thought I was stopping the guiding on purpose?”
“……”
Seo-ha let out an incredulous breath as he watched Han Ju-oh’s eyes roll in thought.
“Why the hell would I do something like that?”
“If you did, there’d be plenty of reasons to justify it. Like wanting to leave a good impression because you liked guiding me… or trying to get me to agree to becoming a pair, so you treat me better if I say yes.”
The more reasons Han Ju-oh rattled off, the more twisted Seo-ha’s expression became. He was basically suggesting that Seo-ha might’ve done it all just to get the attention of an S-Class Esper.
“What do you take me for? Oh, right. I guess you never saw me in a good light to begin with.”
If Seo-ha really had used guiding as a tool to get something out of Han Ju-oh, just like Han Ju-oh thought… then yeah, even Seo-ha wouldn’t have looked at himself kindly.
“Wait, wait—hold up.”
Seo-ha, now overwhelmed with thoughts, raised a hand to stop Han Ju-oh from continuing and began sorting through the situation.
‘Alright, so the first meeting was a mess.’
He had submitted his resignation, but Kim Beom-hak ordered him into a Gate, and he had no choice but to go. Then came the Hidden Gate fiasco, which nearly went catastrophically wrong. It had been chaos, but thanks to the Esper who stepped in at the front, things didn’t get too out of hand.
That Esper had been Han Ju-oh.
If it weren’t for him, Seo-ha might not even be alive right now. That was why it seemed strange that no other Guide was working with him, and why Seo-ha had approached him.
He’d been on the verge of going berserk and had still reacted sharply to Seo-ha. Despite that, Seo-ha had stubbornly continued guiding him… and that was probably where it all began.
‘If he thought I was intentionally holding back… then yeah, this all makes sense.’
Now Seo-ha understood why Han Ju-oh had always been so prickly whenever they met afterward.
And thinking back to the time they did the matching test… he remembered the off-putting mood when talking with the White Guild’s leader. At the time, he assumed she was just upset that the result was only 3%.
“Wow… it all fits now.”
He’d felt like something had always been slightly off, like a gear grinding wrong somewhere—and now, just realizing that Han Ju-oh didn’t really know him, everything clicked into place.
“But… didn’t anyone tell you?”
At that question, Han Ju-oh scowled and glared at Lee Gyu-han, who was still lingering nearby. The moment their eyes met, Lee Gyu-han flinched and began backing away.
“As you can see.”
“So… you don’t really get along with others, huh?”
Seo-ha clicked his tongue, unaware of what exactly Han Ju-oh had done to Lee Gyu-han.
He’d already seen Han Ju-oh give orders during two dungeon runs. With that kind of power, Seo-ha figured people would be lining up to befriend him. But maybe that wasn’t the case after all.
“Anyway, apology accepted.”
Seo-ha acted cool, like he was ready to forget everything that had happened before.
But Han Ju-oh didn’t look the least bit pleased. Instead, he just stared at Seo-ha.
“What? Got something to say?”
“Why am I the only one apologizing?”
“Huh? You want me to apologize too?”
Han Ju-oh nodded, and Seo-ha lifted the corner of his mouth in disbelief.
“What did I do wrong?”
“You shot down everything I ever said.”
Han Ju-oh stared at Seo-ha’s lips. He didn’t seem to care how rude it was to stare like that—he just kept his eyes fixed.
“And you never actually treated me kindly.”
“I didn’t?”
“You were annoying.”
“Wow. You’re really stealing the words right out of my mouth.”
So what, was he supposed to just stand there and take it? Seo-ha shook his head like the idea wasn’t even worth considering. But Han Ju-oh’s eyes never lost their stubborn glint.
He looked so dead set that it seemed like he’d let things go the moment Seo-ha so much as said the word apple instead of sorry.
“If you want an apology, fine, I’ll give you one. But after that, there’s no mo—”
“Forget it.”
Han Ju-oh turned his head away, cutting Seo-ha off before he could even finish making his condition. Wow. Petty.
“Ahem. Well, since you don’t want an apology, fine. But go get guided already, would you?”
Han Ju-oh’s brow twitched.
“Why aren’t you offering to do it?”
It was a look that said: Then what the hell was the point of everything we just talked about?
