The place Seo-ha visited was the memorial park where the recently deceased Esper Yoo Seong-hyun and his Guide were buried. Dressed in a formal black suit, Han Ju-oh would probably expect this.
He had been hospitalized, which delayed his visit. The funeral had already taken place, and they had been laid to rest. Standing in the quieted space, Seo-ha placed a chrysanthemum on each grave, one by one, before stepping back.
It looked like a friend had brought and set down their photos. He looked at the faces of the two, smiling brightly in life.
Thinking about visiting them had brought on a dream. Even though he knew people had died in the dungeon, he acted as if he had quickly forgotten. But in truth, he was just pushing all of it deep into a corner of his heart.
He stood for a long time, staring at their photos. If he was going to remember anyway, he wanted to remember their smiling faces, not the sight of their bodies torn apart in an explosion.
“You were a pretty decent guy.”
He said it while looking at Yoo Seong-hyun. The guy hadn’t liked him, but Seo-ha hadn’t hated him back. He had worked hard, and it was only natural to expect something in return for that.
He had no idea how much time had passed. When a cold sweat began to form on his forehead, Seo-ha muttered with some regret.
“Should’ve just sat down to look.”
Why had he kept standing? And the photos weren’t even at eye level, so he’d been craning his neck down the whole time until it hurt.
He had finished treatment and had been cleared for discharge, so maybe he’d assumed his body was back to normal. But he’d lost too much blood and even went into shock once. They told him to take it easy, but since it wasn’t something he could see, he wasn’t careful enough.
So Seo-ha tapped his own leg lightly with his fist, then slowly began to walk.
If he was going to sit down and rest anyway…
“Might as well sit somewhere familiar, right, Seong-i hyung?”
He sat down in front of a nearby grave. It was a spot he had once sat at every day, so the ground felt as comfortable as a cushion. The chill rising from the earth helped cool his sweat, too.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Seo-ha wiped the sweat from his forehead as he spoke.
“It was my first time going into a gate again after a while… I thought I’d stay out of them for good since I handed in my resignation.”
That’s why Seo-ha had visited Moon Seong’s grave to say a final goodbye before quitting. And yet, here he was again.
“I tried to stop being a Guide, but I couldn’t. I ended up getting pulled in even deeper.”
Rather than going through matching tests like before, a new kind of contract now had him tied down.
“People say life’s unpredictable, but I never thought it would turn out like this for me.”
A partner, of all things.
The fact that an Esper had come looking for his useless guiding was… well, not just surprising—it was completely shocking.
“I still can’t believe it.”
Seo-ha hugged his knees, staring blankly into the distance.
“A worthless Guide, the worst-matching Guide… That’s what I was called, and now I’ve suddenly become the partner of an S-Class Esper.”
He was already unpopular to begin with, and now that his partner was Han Ju-oh, the community had gotten even more hostile.
“But honestly, the fact that it’s Han Ju-oh doesn’t feel so bad.”
That was something he hadn’t been able to say to Han Ju-oh. Sure, his thoughts were weighed down by guilt toward Moon Seong and the fact that his match rate was still low, but he was also grateful to Han Ju-oh in many ways.
Not that he liked the way Han Ju-oh obsessed over him, but he did like how Han Ju-oh shut down the people who badmouthed him.
Remembering those people who scattered like bullets, Seo-ha let out a hoarse laugh.
“You have no idea how satisfying that was.”
It had only existed in his imagination before, but to see it actually happen—it was incredible. Seo-ha wiped away the tears that had welled up and looked ahead.
“I think he was the first Esper to do something like that for me since you, hyung.”
In the distance, he spotted Han Ju-oh watching him. He was keeping his distance, probably thinking Seo-ha would feel burdened if he came too close. Or maybe he was guarding him.
“That’s why… I’m going to try.”
After all this circling around, the truth finally came out.
“He’s sick of eating the same things over and over, but he still eats everything I give him. He throws himself in harm’s way just to save me. I told him to pick another Guide, but he stubbornly tries to fix my problems instead…”
Seo-ha had quickly figured out that Han Ju-oh had seen the research documents related to him in the executive office. That morning, he had chatted with the secretary and seen the files she was printing out. And yet Han Ju-oh had gone out of his way to try and hide it.
“At first, he was so aggressive and selfish that he seriously pissed me off…”
But then he found out it was all due to a bit of misunderstanding, and after that, Han Ju-oh started to look a little different.
“He’s a bit slow, but I think I prefer that to someone who’s too smart. It makes him easier to figure out.”
As if introducing Han Ju-oh to Moon Seong, Seo-ha spoke with a light tone and got up, brushing off his pants.
“You said you were letting me go, so just watch over me now.”
Seo-ha smiled at the name engraved on the tombstone.
“This is my real goodbye.”
He hadn’t come because he was quitting being a Guide. This was the real thing. With a weight lifted from his chest, Seo-ha left the spot behind.
“Han Ju-oh!”
As Seo-ha cupped one hand to his mouth and shouted, the man who had been standing far away flew over in an instant.
“I really don’t want to say this, but…”
Seo-ha showed Han Ju-oh his dirt-covered hand, stained from brushing off his pants.
“My hand’s filthy, so I can’t wipe the sweat off my forehead. Mind helping me out? Or you could just carry me.”
He offered options, leaving it up to Han Ju-oh how he wanted to help. Han Ju-oh looked at the hand, then immediately stepped closer. It seemed he had decided that carrying him would be more effective than wiping sweat. But as he reached out, Seo-ha grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.
“What the hell.”
“Not a princess carry—give me a piggyback.”
Seeing Han Ju-oh approach with arms bent forward, Seo-ha could already tell how he was about to be lifted, so he turned the man’s body around without mercy. Then, from behind, he clung onto his shoulders.
“Thanks in advance.”
Since he’d said his thanks already, Han Ju-oh probably wouldn’t shake him off.
***
Seo-ha had dozed off on Han Ju-oh’s broad back and, before he knew it, was back at the hospital. He woke up as if from unconsciousness and was stunned to see an IV drip attached to the back of his hand.
“You could’ve just let me rest at home. Why drag me all the way back here?”
“You’ll recover better with a nutrient drip and some rest.”
“And who said you get to make that decision?”
Seo-ha sighed, but didn’t pull the needle out. Since it had already pierced his skin, he didn’t feel like yanking it out and drawing blood just out of spite.
“The professor said to finish the drip and then come upstairs.”
Han Ju-oh brought up another reason for their hospital visit. While Seo-ha had been sleeping, most of the IV had already gone in. As both of them pondered the real reason he’d been summoned, a nurse came in, detached the now-empty drip, and guided them to the professor.
“I’ve been going over the test results and considering various hypotheses.”
Seo-ha sharpened his focus and looked at the professor. In the past, he had undergone countless tests to try and figure out why his match rate wouldn’t change. At the time, there hadn’t been any clear cause. But now, things were different.
At the very least, there had been a noticeable change in his guiding ability, which gave them something to work with.
“First, there was something unique about the situation the two of you were in.”
Seo-ha naturally recalled the brief moment of consciousness he’d had right after the explosion. It hadn’t lasted long, so there wasn’t much to remember.
“I suspect that the Esper being pushed to an extreme limit may have influenced the way your energy was drawn out.”
Seo-ha tilted his head, puzzled. They were looking for the cause in Han Ju-oh, not him?
As his gaze instinctively turned to Han Ju-oh, the man, sensing the attention, met Seo-ha’s eyes.
“Has there ever been a time when an Esper in an extreme crisis demanded guiding from Guide Baek Seo-ha?”
“Uh… yeah, there was.”
Only one. The question reminded him of Moon Seong, and his expression turned grim.
“And how effective was the guiding at that time?”
The professor seemed to want him to elaborate, so Seo-ha reluctantly opened his mouth. He couldn’t exactly say no.
“It almost resulted in an imprint.”
He couldn’t say for certain, since something had interrupted the moment he thought the connection had formed.
“But the circumstances at the time made that impossible…”
He trailed off, sounding like he was making excuses. Then, Seo-ha suddenly realized something from the professor’s words. An extreme situation. That day, Han Ju-oh’s wrist had glowed with an intense red light, and even Moon Seong had been pushed to the brink of a rampage.
“That seems to be what triggered Guide Baek’s energy.”
Watching Seo-ha’s expression closely, the professor suggested that the reason might lie there. Han Ju-oh’s expression changed too, his silence showing he was reevaluating the situation. In his place, Seo-ha spoke up, glaring at the professor with thinly veiled dissatisfaction.
“So what—you’re saying that for my match rate to go up again, Esper Han Ju-oh has to be put in danger?”
His voice was anything but pleasant, as if hoping the answer would be no.
“If necessary, it’s something we might consider trying.”
The doctor said it could be a possible method—but Seo-ha couldn’t accept that.
“What if it fails?”
What about Han Ju-oh’s life?
