Baek Seo-ha accepted the call, fell silent in thought for a moment, then slowly raised his phone to his ear.
“This is Yoon Ji-guk.”
It was the team leader who had taken Han Ju-oh.
“Have you been well?”
Seo-ha asked, focused so intensely that he didn’t want to miss even the faintest breath from the other end.
—You sound like you were expecting something to happen.
Team Leader Yoon Ji-guk was no pushover. He seemed to have picked up on something from Seo-ha’s calm tone, as if reading between the lines. Apparently, Seo-ha wasn’t the only one on edge during this call.
“There’s only one reason you’d be calling me.”
Rather than deny it, Seo-ha simply stated the reason outright. There was no point in dragging this out—he was the one at a disadvantage here. As frustrating as it was, if it was for Han Ju-oh, then it wasn’t something worth getting prideful about.
‘If it’s for what I need to get later.’
Seo-ha clenched the phone tightly in his hand. Soon after, Yoon Ji-guk’s sigh was followed by the real reason for the call.
—You’ll need to come.
It seemed Han Ju-oh had reached a threshold where guiding him was now unavoidable. Chances were they hadn’t even been able to confirm whether guiding would work or not. After all, Han Ju-oh had flat-out refused to accept any guidance.
Because it was precisely what he’d been waiting to hear, Seo-ha answered instantly.
“No.”
He had already decided to refuse.
Yoon Ji-guk began to say something, flustered, but Seo-ha didn’t listen. He pulled the phone away from his ear and shut it off entirely. Staring at the now-dark screen, he let out a sigh—then raised his head, only to freeze.
“Wh-What’s with your eyes?!”
“Baek Seo-ha!”
Moon Roi yelled, eyes wide with alarm.
“Jesus, why are you yelling?”
Seo-ha, who had happened to be standing close to him to retrieve his phone, flinched and grimaced, covering his ears.
“You… You! What the hell are you doing? He called you! Huh? He called, so you should go!”
Moon Roi was stumbling over his words in his agitation, but he still got his point across. It was honestly touching how seriously he was taking this as if it were his own problem—but unfortunately, this wasn’t a simple situation.
“Yeah, I was waiting for it. But I never said I’d go.”
Seo-ha slipped the phone into his pocket and began pacing. He wasn’t the same lazy sloth who had been sprawled out on the sofa just a short while ago. After hearing what kind of state Han Ju-oh was in, his mind was spinning.
“Then why don’t you just go?”
Moon Roi looked at Seo-ha with an expression that screamed I don’t get you at all.
***
After leaving the director’s office, Seo-ha headed straight for his company-provided residence. Because he’d only come home to sleep and left immediately afterward lately, the place felt lifeless—like an empty house. Or maybe it just felt especially cold without Han Ju-oh there.
Seo-ha stretched his arms up and peeled off his shirt. And since he was already halfway there, he quickly stripped off the rest as well.
Now completely naked, Seo-ha stepped under the showerhead and turned the faucet.
Shhhhhaaa—
Cold water poured down over his head. It was nothing like a face splash—this jolted him wide awake. He washed himself mechanically. Usually, he’d think about his schedule for tomorrow or Han Ju-oh’s training routine, but today, his mind was blank.
After silently washing up, he stepped out of the bathroom. He gave himself a quick towel-off and headed into the dressing room. Everywhere he stepped, wet footprints bloomed beneath his feet. He pulled on underwear, a simple T-shirt, and sweatpants, then stood in front of the full-length mirror.
His hair, soaked and limp, clung to his skin as water droplets ran down his shoulders. As he watched them fall, a noise caught his ear. Realizing it was his phone vibrating, Seo-ha turned around. He dug it out from the pile of clothes he had tossed aside.
The number wasn’t saved in his contacts, but he had memorized it before the earlier call. The vibration stopped, replaced by a missed call notification.
Sixteen calls.
That’s how many times Yoon Ji-guk had called since Seo-ha left the director’s office, came home, and showered.
“This should be enough.”
He had expected the calls to keep coming. He hadn’t decided on which ring to pick up on, but he knew he’d talk to Yoon Ji-guk eventually. As the phone began to vibrate again, the screen lit up.
This time, Seo-ha didn’t reject it. He answered the call and sat down on the bed.
“Yes.”
—You act like you’re the one in control.
Yoon Ji-guk’s voice had turned cold, so much so that Seo-ha could practically picture the scorn in his expression—what an arrogant bastard. It was hard to believe this was the same man who had once stood in front of Seo-ha, back when he was still Han Ju-oh’s Pair Guide, and casually called Ju-oh a weapon.
“I don’t know about control, but there is one thing I’m certain of: you want Ju-oh to come out of this alive, too, don’t you?”
—Do you enjoy toying with your partner’s life?
“Toying?”
Seo-ha asked with a look of genuine disbelief—then burst into laughter without holding back.
“I don’t play games. At the very least, if Ju-oh explodes this time, I’m prepared to die with him.”
Seo-ha’s true feelings—ones he hadn’t been able to share with Moon Roi—spilled out. When he had failed to bond with Moon Seong, they hadn’t died together. He had carried the guilt of surviving alone ever since. But this time… maybe he could finally be free.
—Guide Baek Seo-ha!
“You called me to suppress his rampage, didn’t you?”
Seo-ha pinpointed exactly what Yoon Ji-guk was after. That was the only reason he had been summoned in the first place—there was no room for guesswork.
“But I’m not going there.”
—Are you insane?
“If Ju-oh does lose control, no amount of double or triple containment will stop it. Oh, and I meant what I said about being ready to die. This place is close enough to be caught in the blast radius.”
His residence wasn’t far from the National Security Department.
Seo-ha listened to Yoon Ji-guk’s ragged breathing and waited.
—What do you want?
‘Finally.’
A radiant smile spread across Seo-ha’s face.
“Ju-oh.”
***
The sound of a passcode being entered made Seo-ha turn his head toward the door. Heavy footsteps followed—slower than usual, and lacking their usual strength.
When the door opened, Han Ju-oh appeared. Seo-ha waved in greeting.
“You’re back.”
Han Ju-oh looked at Seo-ha, who greeted him just as casually as always, then gave a slight nod.
“Yeah.”
Despite his face looking so bad that veins bulged at his temples, Han Ju-oh still responded. Seo-ha gave a faint, wry smile.
“Release Ju-oh. And promise you won’t come after him again.”
Seo-ha had laid out his condition. Yoon Ji-guk immediately raised hell, yelling that it was out of the question. Said it was too dangerous to let someone like that walk freely. But Seo-ha’s single scoff was enough to shut him up.
“Whether he blows up there or here—what’s the difference?”
While Yoon Ji-guk was left speechless, Seo-ha drove in the nail.
“At least here, there’s a chance he won’t go berserk. Otherwise, come arrest me too.”
He had made it clear that there was no other way to suppress Han Ju-oh’s rampage.
“Ah, and if my partner makes it out safely, you’d better apologize properly.”
He even made sure to schedule a future meeting—but by then, Yoon Ji-guk had already hung up.
“I think we really hit it off this time.”
When Seo-ha raised his palm as he spoke, Han Ju-oh gently clapped his own against it. Then, just as he started to pull away, Seo-ha caught his hand and yanked him close.
Han Ju-oh’s body tipped forward, and he ended up collapsing onto Seo-ha—flipping their positions in an almost comical way.
“Even now, all you can think about is jumping me. You’re so damn greedy, Ju-oh.”
Seo-ha looked up at him and teased with a sly smile, eyes narrowing in amusement. It was the kind of look he’d flash when mocking Moon Roi—but right now, it was Han Ju-oh he was looking at.
“I missed you.”
Han Ju-oh pressed a soft kiss to Seo-ha’s lips, then pulled back.
Seo-ha, confirming his partner’s feelings through that fleeting kiss, grinned.
“I missed you too.”
And just when Han Ju-oh thought Seo-ha would return the kiss—just like before—his eyes widened slightly in surprise.
Instead, Seo-ha grabbed Han Ju-oh’s wrist in an urgent grip and raised it to eye level.
“I really wanted to see your threat level.”
98%.
“Team Leader Yoon Ji-guk does have a conscience after all.”
Maybe leaving that last sliver of time before it hit 99% had been his way of showing it. Thanks to that, Seo-ha at least got the chance to properly greet Han Ju-oh.
“Ju-oh.”
Seo-ha wrapped his arms around Han Ju-oh’s neck. There was still so much to say before they kissed again.
“Didn’t this whole thing teach you anything?”
At his question, Han Ju-oh thought deeply.
“That I missed you a lot.”
“Yeah, me too. But that’s not what I meant.”
“That life was harsh before I made you my partner.”
“Same here, but nope, still not it.”
“…I love you.”
“Don’t try to gloss it over with that.”
Han Ju-oh fell silent. His eyes said he genuinely had no clue. Seo-ha let out a quiet snort.
“That we can’t let something like this happen again.”
