“Even though you’re tired, you still want to do this?”
Han Ju-oh showed clear disapproval.
“Exactly because I’m tired, I need to do this. This is my way of recharging.”
Seo-ha stroked the basketball a few times before throwing it toward the hoop. It wasn’t far, so the ball slipped cleanly through the basket. He didn’t even have time to celebrate the shot. Seo-ha kept grabbing the ball and throwing it again, checking his score after each one.
Next to him, Han Ju-oh, now reduced to a spectator, simply stood there and watched.
“Didn’t you just say you were so tired you could barely take a step?”
“Exactly. I dragged myself all the way here, so I deserve a break.”
As he neared the end, Seo-ha quickened his pace, launching balls with practiced agility. The buzzer signaled the game was over, followed by a cheerful jingle and the final score.
“Not bad at all.”
Seo-ha threw a smug glance at Han Ju-oh, practically puffing out his chest. That cocky posture made it obvious he was pretty pleased with his score.
Han Ju-oh could’ve gotten a better result using his ability, but if it was just a fair game, he wasn’t confident he’d win so easily.
“What should I try next? Seriously, arcades these days are ridiculously well-made. Everything’s fun.”
“Is it fun?”
The question, laced with emotion, came from Han Ju-oh. Seo-ha took his hand, opened his palm, and placed some coins he’d exchanged for bills on top of it.
“Try it for yourself. If you’re not sure whether this counts as rest, then just do it. Anything you spend money on for fun is recharging.”
Han Ju-oh just stared at the coins in his palm, so Seo-ha urged him with a touch of exasperation.
“Not going to do it? Wait—don’t tell me this is your first time in an arcade?”
“…I’ve been to one before.”
Han Ju-oh clenched his fist. The coins vanished cleanly into his grip, prompting Seo-ha to stick his hand into his own pocket.
“Then let’s split up.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think? You’ve probably got stuff you want to try. I want to do the things I like, and you should do what’s fun for you.”
Seo-ha’s plainspoken reasoning made Han Ju-oh frown.
“Isn’t this a date?”
“You think this looks like work?”
“If we’re doing our own thing separately, how is that a date? It’s not.”
Only when Han Ju-oh pointed out what bothered him did Seo-ha finally seem to catch on and gave a few nods.
“But I feel awkward if you’re just standing around watching.”
“We’re supposed to enjoy things together.”
Han Ju-oh put particular emphasis on together, making it hard for Seo-ha to insist on splitting up again.
“We’re still in the same space, you know. But okay, fine. Tell me what kind of game you want to play, then I’ll tell you mine. Let’s take turns.”
Han Ju-oh looked around the arcade, then pointed at one.
“Bubble Bubble?”
It was a game where a cute little dinosaur blew soap bubbles to defeat enemies. Seo-ha pointed at it, clearly not convinced, and asked if he was serious. Han Ju-oh just walked straight over and sat down. Once he inserted a coin, cheerful chiptune sounds rang out.
“You’re something else. Like, completely something else.”
Looking far from enthusiastic, Seo-ha reluctantly sat next to him and pushed in a coin.
“When this is over, we’re doing a street fighter game.”
***
Their fired-up mood from the game spilled over into the claw machine section. Even when seated, Seo-ha’s naturally active nature showed—he seemed quite experienced with claw machines, skillfully maneuvering the joystick.
He picked out a stuffed animal he liked among the ones behind the transparent glass and started strategizing how to grab it, while Han Ju-oh grew annoyed. There weren’t many chances to talk, and that irritated him.
“Why are you so serious about this?”
When Han Ju-oh muttered his complaint, Seo-ha selected a turtle plush and immediately fed in some coins.
“Ju-oh, I give my all in everything I do.”
As the machine played a bright, cheerful jingle, Seo-ha manipulated the stick and the claw trembled into motion.
“If you give your all in everything, don’t you get exhausted?”
Han Ju-oh followed his lead and inserted coins into the machine beside him. He didn’t seem all that invested in winning a plush toy—his mind was clearly preoccupied with Seo-ha. From beside him, Seo-ha’s voice drifted in as he murmured to himself while watching through the transparent window.
“If I don’t, I can’t shake off all the noise in my head.”
Seo-ha let out a disappointed sigh as the claw dropped the turtle plush. Without missing a beat, he tried again. Thanks to the well-timed upbeat music, the mood didn’t dip.
“When I give it my all, I can focus quickly. That way, I don’t get distracted by other thoughts.”
Seo-ha clamped his mouth shut after that. Unlike him, who was wholly focused on trying to win the plush, Han Ju-oh idly fiddled with the joystick. The claw hovered near a plushie’s head, scratched it, and missed. Seo-ha caught a glimpse and sneered.
“Wow, it’s like watching one of those old people back scratchers.”
At that moment, Seo-ha’s claw machine dropped the plushie with a soft thunk. He bent down calmly, picked it up, and proudly waved it in front of Han Ju-oh’s face.
“Isn’t this one cute?”
Seo-ha clutched the turtle plushie by its shell, turning it this way and that as he proudly showed it off. Han Ju-oh made no effort to hide his displeasure. His reaction was so blatant that Seo-ha just laughed, clearly amused.
“Wanna make a bet?”
It was obvious what kind of bet he meant. As Han Ju-oh kept staring at the claw machine, Seo-ha suddenly shoved all the plushies he’d won into his arms.
“I’ll give you all three of these. Let’s start counting the score from now. But no using your ability. Deal?”
“Didn’t you screw yourself over last time by saying stuff like that? How many wishes do you even have left?”
Plenty.
“If you know that, then give me a little slack, would you? Anyway, let’s just go with this. What do you say?”
Han Ju-oh used his ability to make the plushies float in the air. The surrounding arcade-goers turned their heads in surprise, while Seo-ha gave him a betrayed look.
“You said no powers!”
“My hands need to be free. I’ll play fair during the actual bet.”
“Don’t try to cheat just because I can’t prove you’re using your ability.”
“Then get on with it.”
As Han Ju-oh fired back without backing down, Seo-ha gave up glaring at him and turned to the machine.
“Feels like my fighting spirit is bubbling up, right?”
“…Is this really what a date is supposed to be?”
Seo-ha completely ignored his muttering.
“As long as we’re having fun, who cares?”
Naturally, Seo-ha liked to win. So he had no intention of going easy and kept cranking out plushies like his life depended on it.
So focused were the two on their competition that they didn’t even notice the small crowd gathering around them. And the result was…
“You seriously didn’t use your ability?”
“I tend to focus when it actually matters.”
The number of plushies floating around Han Ju-oh had already surpassed ten, while Seo-ha’s haul stacked on one side came to seven. If he hadn’t given those first three to Han Ju-oh, they’d be tied. The realization made his blood boil.
“Ugh, you’re such a cheat!”
As Seo-ha shouted in frustration, Han Ju-oh pulled out his vibrating phone, checked it briefly, and tucked it back away.
***
A group of people emerged from the Gate. Their clothes were soaked in monster blood, and they all wore expressions of sheer exhaustion.
“Good work, everyone.”
Waiting outside, Chief Choi—an agent from the Gate Control Center and the dispatch supervisor—stepped forward and offered a bottle of water to one specific man.
“Are you injured anywhere?”
The man Choi addressed was the first to step out of the Gate, a blond streaked with blood—his hair soaked, but still striking. Choi spoke in Korean, and the man understood immediately.
“I’m fine.”
He replied in fluent Korean, and when he smiled, the narrowed shape of his eyes nearly concealed his pale blue irises.
“Do you need guiding, then?”
“Hmm… No urgency. But this Gate was pretty tough. A lot of Espers pushed themselves too far. Better to check on them first.”
As he looked around at the others, Choi couldn’t help but be impressed.
“Looks like you’ve already grown close with the team.”
Before entering the Gate, they hadn’t even known each other, so it wasn’t something to be expected. But it made sense—this Esper had been dispatched by a foreign government at Korea’s request when the S-Class Gate had appeared. As Choi listened to a whisper from one of his subordinates, he stepped forward and shook the man’s hand.
“Esper Ian, thanks to you, we avoided any major damage from this Gate. We’re truly grateful.”
It was no surprise they were showing him this much goodwill—he had been instrumental in clearing the dungeon. An S-Class Esper with extensive real-world combat experience.
Ian accepted the praise with an easy smile and glanced around. Chief Choi picked up on the subtle shift and asked,
“Looking for someone?”
“Mm… I sent a message earlier. Just wondering if they showed up.”
“A friend of yours?”
“Yes. Ju-oh. I called my friend Ju-oh.”
The name rang a bell for Choi, and he immediately thought of someone.
“You mean Esper Han Ju-oh?”
“That’s right. He’s my friend.”
“In that case, he probably won’t be showing up.”
At Choi’s puzzled tone, Ian fixed his eyes on him.
“Don’t know the full details, but he’s in a bit of a complicated situation with his Pair Guide.”
“Pair Guide?”
Ian echoed the term as if unfamiliar with it, parroting it back with innocent confusion. But he wasn’t actually confused at all.
“Ju-oh has a partner now?”
