Baek Seo-ha’s steps, descending from the rooftop, didn’t head toward the executive office—they wandered off somewhere completely different.
“Ju-oh.”
Seo-ha nudged Han Ju-oh in the side as they walked side by side.
“Don’t you have something like that? A wish list or something?”
“Nope.”
Han Ju-oh’s answer came immediately, like it was something he’d never once considered.
“Well, I do. If I could just become a Guide with enough ability—not one who shrinks back…”
“You were never incompetent.”
Han Ju-oh cut him off, like he wouldn’t allow that kind of self-deprecation.
“Yeah, I had ability. I always did. But you know how it is—there are objective standards.”
No matter how good he was in other areas, no one ever acknowledged it because of his low matching rate.
“Anyway, what I wanted… if I could just reach that point, I wanted to do something like this. Just walk like this.”
It was a more modest wish than expected.
“Back then, whenever I passed by, people would start whispering about my matching rate. But that doesn’t happen anymore, right?”
Spotting a familiar face, Seo-ha lifted his hand in greeting.
“Long time no see. How’s the kid doing?”
“Huh? Oh—yeah.”
“Let’s grab a meal sometime.”
“Sure.”
Leaving behind the slightly flustered Esper—who didn’t complain even though he knew that meal would never happen—Seo-ha spread his arms wide as he walked forward.
“This is the kind of day I used to dream about, you know?”
Now that Han Ju-oh had recovered, Seo-ha was finally starting to show the little desires he’d kept bottled up.
“How many things are on that wish list of yours?”
“Hmm, not sure? Rough guess—maybe ten?”
Seo-ha began ticking them off on his fingers: walking confidently, drinking confidently, eating confidently. They were all simple, everyday things—small but meaningful.
“You could probably do all of that today.”
Still, as someone who wanted to make his lover’s wishes come true, Han Ju-oh took Seo-ha’s hand and guided him toward the company cafeteria. As Seo-ha hurried to keep up, he added,
“But the list might grow, you know.”
It might be ten now, but it could easily get longer.
***
“Director, what are you doing here?”
Seo-ha had come to meet with Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon, but Director Kim Beom-hak was also in the room. At Seo-ha’s confused question, Kim Beom-hak clicked his tongue.
“So it’s fine when you barge into my office, but I can’t come see you?”
“Exactly. Weren’t we always the type to drop in on each other without notice?”
Kim Beom-hak looked like he’d flick Seo-ha on the forehead if he were within reach.
“When something good happens, you should come tell me right away.”
“You already know, so what’s the point of hearing it from me again? Fine, fine.”
Seo-ha grumbled under his breath, but in the end, nodded big, as if saying, All right, I’ll humor you. Annoying as the man could be, he looked a hundred times better now than he did when he was grieving.
When Kim Beom-hak clicked his tongue again, Seo-ha gave him a warm smile and plopped right down beside him.
“When was the last time we sat like this and actually talked?”
“Get off me.”
Kim Beom-hak shoved him away with an arm.
“Nope, not happening.”
Seo-ha only moved an inch before nestling right back in again.
While the two of them bickered playfully, Han Ju-oh went over to Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon and took a seat.
“Prepare a new contract.”
“I figured that’s why you were coming over.”
Kim Mi-yeon gave him a sharp glance.
“Now explain everything. In detail.”
She could see Han Ju-oh was remarkably stable. She’d already heard that Team Leader Yoon Ji-guk had backed down without a word, and that he’d met Guide Moon Roi and Esper Ian Poulter up on the rooftop.
Still, Kim Mi-yeon wanted to hear it straight from Han Ju-oh’s mouth.
“We imprinted.”
He gave her exactly what she wanted—but in his own blunt, matter-of-fact style.
“…That’s it?”
Forming an imprint was impressive, sure—but not exactly rare. The odds of partners imprinting weren’t low. After all, when people stuck together and made it through life-threatening situations, they naturally formed deep connections. Sometimes even love grew from it.
“I’ll be buried in the training room for a while. Get everything ready.”
“You’re asking for one of the rotation-based training rooms to be set aside just for you? It’s doable, but the other Espers won’t be happy about it.”
“Then I’m fine finding a space outside the guild.”
What mattered most to Han Ju-oh was having a place where he could push his powers without restraint.
“There’s no need to send you off-site. If we just rotate a few grumbling Espers through your training room now and then, I think they’ll survive. What do you think?”
Sure, monopolizing a training room might stir up some complaints—but if it meant sparring with an S-Class Esper? Getting a chance to train against someone as dangerous as a monster-level Esper was a rare and invaluable experience.
By agreeing to Han Ju-oh’s request, Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon also proposed a compromise that could raise the skill level of the guild’s Espers overall.
“Do as you like.”
Han Ju-oh accepted without the slightest hesitation. And with that, their conversation naturally came to an end.
While Han Ju-oh turned his attention to Seo-ha chatting with Director Kim Beom-hak, Kim Mi-yeon turned hers to Han Ju-oh.
“You’ve got that look… your head seems like a mess.”
This wasn’t the guild leader speaking—it was a friend. She watched him with quiet concern.
“An imprint is supposed to be something to celebrate. But your face is still heavy with worry.”
“I was reminded of my family… for the first time in a long while.”
His gaze toward Seo-ha radiated warmth, but the smile on his lips was faintly stiff. Maybe that was just the nature of love—the deeper it ran, the more terrifying the thought of losing it became.
“I couldn’t protect them back then. And there’s no guarantee it won’t happen again.”
Right then, the conversation between Kim Beom-hak and Seo-ha lulled, leaving Han Ju-oh’s voice to gently carry through the room. He wasn’t speaking loudly, but it was easy to catch if you were listening.
Seo-ha glanced over at him for a second but turned back to his conversation like nothing had happened.
“I get what you’re feeling,” Kim Mi-yeon said softly, “but I don’t agree with you—not this time.”
She had lost family, too. But even so, she smiled lightly.
“Look at who your partner is. It’s Baek Seo-ha.”
At the sound of his name, Seo-ha turned to look at her. Then he narrowed his eyes at Han Ju-oh, clearly trying to figure out what had just been said.
“Worrying about him? That’s almost insulting. I didn’t want to say anything earlier with the mood being what it was, but do you know how many Espers wanted to pair with Guide Baek after the last Gate?”
As Kim Mi-yeon’s voice rose, it naturally carried over to where Seo-ha and Director Kim sat. Seo-ha pointed at himself repeatedly.
“Me? Me? Me?”
“Yes, you. You have no idea how many Espers were practically lining up to pair with you. Han Ju-oh kept saying, ‘Aren’t there plenty of other Guides?’—asking if they couldn’t give someone else a chance… I didn’t expect you to be this popular.”
As she went on, Seo-ha’s head tilted back higher and higher—until it looked like his nose might graze the ceiling.
Director Kim looked like he was seriously considering smacking Seo-ha’s forehead just to bring him back down to Earth.
“Now that you mention it, I did notice people staring at me pretty intensely on the way here.”
Seo-ha beamed, absolutely basking in the praise—like humility had never been in his vocabulary.
“I don’t think I can come here for a while. I should wait for the excitement to die down a little, don’t you think? What do you say, Ju-oh?”
He stuck out his tongue with a cheeky grin and naturally passed the ball to Han Ju-oh.
“You don’t have to come. Don’t bother.”
It was as if Han Ju-oh had completely forgotten he’d just asked for a dedicated training space. This wasn’t about going along with Seo-ha—it was about the possessiveness that flared up the moment he heard other Espers wanted Seo-ha too.
“Not that it matters anyway. We’re imprinted now. Even if someone wanted to pair with you, they couldn’t. …Whatever. Do what you want.”
As his expression darkened, Kim Mi-yeon sensibly chose not to push the topic any further.
“On that note,” Seo-ha chimed in, sliding effortlessly into the moment, “I’ve been thinking—maybe it’s time for a trip.”
Everyone turned to him in surprise—including Han Ju-oh.
“A trip?”
“Yeah. It hasn’t been long since we got back from the Gate, and I thought a little getaway might do us some good. A change of pace. We could even say it’s to celebrate our imprint. It’s officially made the wish list.”
“When did you think of that?”
It was obvious this wasn’t a pre-planned idea, which is why Han Ju-oh asked. Seo-ha just grinned.
“The moment you said you were locking down a training room.”
In other words, he’d heard everything—every single word of the conversation with Kim Mi-yeon. So much for thinking he’d been too busy talking with Director Kim to notice.
Seo-ha moved right next to Han Ju-oh and slung an arm over his shoulder.
“Ju-oh. If you ever want me to miss something, you’re going to have to wait until I’m not in the room.”
“You’re okay with that?”
“Of course not. I’d absolutely sulk if I found out you said something behind my back.”
It was basically a warning not to even try—but Han Ju-oh’s expression finally softened.
“I didn’t know you worried about me that much. In that case, let’s take some time to get to know each other better.”
It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a declaration.
