“Why, a few days ago, I said something really annoying, and actually, that day, I even kicked Ji Gwanyeong, telling him to sit down quickly.”

“…. Huh.”

“But that person, he didn’t even get angry with me. He just held my hand all day, saying I looked drained, and skipped the schedule behind us to stay with me at the dormitory. When I woke up, he had already prepared breakfast and left, and in the meantime, he contacted the center to say I wasn’t feeling well and even got me excused from the guide training.”

In fact, there were words Taehun couldn’t bring himself to add because of embarrassment.

Ji Gwanyeong had left marks from his ankle to his knee and deep inside his thigh—marks that were truly too embarrassing to mention. When Taehun discovered them while showering the next morning, he felt so ashamed that he could hardly breathe.

Lately, Espers have been enjoying leaving marks on their pair’s bodies. As if the giant name engraved on the back wasn’t enough, they persistently create their own marks.

“Despite hating people to the extent that I wouldn’t let anyone into my house, my younger siblings are fine with bothering me for hours… Telling me not to apologize no matter what happens.”

“….”

Taehun, unable to meet the counselor’s gaze, lowered his head and sighed softly.

“I realized, no matter what I do, this person will always be on my side. He can’t help but stand by me… That’s when I understood what the bond between pairs really means.”

“Because he’s the perfect, irreplaceable one?”

“…. Yes. That’s it. It’s not just a compliment when he says he can’t do without me. It’s true. That’s what an Esper is.”

There was a hint of self-deprecation in Taehun’s eyes as he spoke. In reality, he felt guilty for thinking of Ji Gwanyeong that way. Ji Gwanyeong was simply following him with pure intentions, but as a guide, Taehun couldn’t help but interpret the weaknesses that came with being an Esper according to his own preferences.

After a while of staring down at the floor, Taehun noticed the counselor’s unwavering gaze on him. He raised his head and gave a weak smile.

“But there’s an obvious prerequisite here.”

“A prerequisite?”

“Guide.”

It had been such an obvious fact for a long time, but now, it was the very word that became the source of all his anxiety. Taehun repeatedly re-engraved the sentences that had been swirling in his mind.

“How does Lee Hansol plan to make me that person’s Esper?”

“I’m a guide!”

“Would it be easier to understand if I said I was an Esper who used to be a guide?”…

Up until now, Taehun had never considered the possibility that Ji Gwanyeong could be someone else’s Esper. Naturally, he had always assumed that Ji Gwanyeong was his pair.

But now that he knew that the certainty he once had could be shattered at any moment, the anxiety that had sprouted in his heart left him speechless.

“I have this all because I’m Ji Gwanyeong’s guide.”

Taehun’s fist tightened with determination.

“For me, Esper… Ji Gwanyeong is the only one. I’ve known that since I was five years old. For 23 years, I’ve been searching for an Esper who matches me.”

Once the words began flowing, they came out without stopping, words he had been too scared to say before. Taehun was surprisingly amazed that he was able to say it so casually. But that was Taehun’s own thought. The counselor couldn’t help but feel that the man, who had always appeared so steady, was now displaying an expression that seemed to falter, making it hard for him to look away.

“But to Ji Gwanyeong, am I really that guide?”

“….”

“…… It’s greed. I know. I also know how dangerous it is to have only one guide matched to an Esper.”

That was the truth. There was no more dangerous word than ‘only guide.’
Aside from the intangible power of being able to hold the Esper’s mind together, a guide’s physical abilities were no different from that of an ordinary person. Guides too could suddenly experience the kinds of accidents or incidents that any ordinary person might face in their life.

If only one guide were ever matched to an Esper, the Espers left alone, powerless to resist, would likely have gone mad long ago, turning most of the world into ruins. Especially if the Esper had a power like Ji Gwanyeong’s, whose limits were nearly impossible to comprehend. Truly, there could be no more terrifying scenario than that.

“I know, I really do… but…”

The guide covered his face with both hands.

Taehun began avoiding the matching rate tests. More specifically, he started to fear them. Ji Gwanyeong vaguely noticed this. So, the Esper decided to follow his guide’s wishes without hesitation. For him, the matching rate measured at the center was of no importance at all.

“Let’s skip the test today.”
“Eh? Why?”
“Didn’t we just do it last week? The center has a lot of good programs, right? Just pick one and bring it.”

The way he sat, with his legs crossed and arms folded, speaking leisurely, carried the attitude of an arrogant examiner, as if saying, ‘Alright, let’s see what you’re so proud of.’ This made Miyeon’s forehead crease immediately, as she had considerable pride in the center.

But the Esper didn’t care about Miyeon’s change of expression at all. Only Taehun, who sighed softly after hearing his words and relaxed his stiff shoulders, responded first.

Ji Gwanyeong stared intently at the guide across from him. However, whether the guide noticed his effort or not, when their eyes briefly met, he only smiled faintly with the corners of his mouth lifting before quickly lowering his head again.

Lately, Ji Gwanyeong had been filled with late regrets. He regretted not taking better care of Taehun when he looked so drained last week, and now, he regretted not sitting next to that man. These were thoughts that hadn’t even occurred to him before meeting Taehun.

He often got lost in trivial thoughts. He would replay things Taehun had said casually, like how his younger siblings liked him, and imagined meeting those little kids again someday. He also found himself holding onto his phone, something he hadn’t really paid attention to before.

After finishing their schedule at the center, the pair moved together to the guide’s dormitory. The weather, now at the cusp of summer, was a bit humid. As soon as Taehun entered the house, he turned on the air conditioning. His head and body needed to cool down a bit.

The Esper stood at an angle, contemplating what to say to his guide, keeping his eyes on him. Should they go somewhere nearby for dinner? Since Taehun liked watching movies, should they watch something at home? When and how should he ask?

Ji Gwanyeong, picking unfamiliar kind words, observed the guide’s face, who was desperately trying to appear normal. His attitude was so cautious that, if the center staff knew, they might be a little annoyed.

“Shall we just have a simple dinner?”
“Yeah.”

One of the methods that Esper had thought of quickly disappeared.

Choi Taehun lived alone, but for a single man, he kept his place surprisingly clean. In the guide’s residence, there were many scented candles and diffusers brought by his younger siblings, and an indescribable fragrance lingered. Esper, who had visited the guide’s space after several days, suddenly noticed a crumpled piece of paper that didn’t quite fit in.

Meanwhile, the guide, who had recently been living carelessly, sighed as he looked inside his refrigerator. The only thing in there was a few eggs.

“Gwanyeong, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing to eat at home…”

Choi Taehun’s words stopped as he noticed what Esper was looking at. Gwanyeong lightly shook the matching paper that Taehun had carelessly thrown aside. He had hoped it wasn’t the case, but it was clear that this matching score was the problem.

“The combination of numbers created by the machine at the center analyzing brainwaves and biometric signals.” That was all Gwanyeong thought about the two or three-digit number. Esper, looking at the guide’s stiff face, spoke as lightly as possible.

“Just ignore it. It’s useless.”

“…Haha. Yeah. Right.”

Taehun’s hesitant response made it clear that he didn’t fully accept the words. Gwanyeong frowned, thinking that the damn center was the real problem.

Seeing Taehun trying to smile uncomfortably only made him feel uneasy.

The guide, avoiding his Esper, seemed to turn quickly to escape back to the kitchen. But he couldn’t take a step immediately.

Was it because of that?

Gwanyeong watched as Taehun clenched his fist, looked at the ceiling, and sighed deeply, failing to suppress his inner turmoil. A heavy silence fell between the pair. The guide spoke first.

“Aren’t you worried, Gwanyeong?”

“What?”

“Does it not matter to you at all whether the matching rate goes down or up?”

“Why should I care about this?”

Sometimes people unintentionally hurt others.

That’s what Gwanyeong’s words were like. His tone, which usually fell gently toward the guide, seemed no different, but for the guide, it stung. Taehun slowly turned around and saw Esper’s slightly furrowed brow.

He truly hadn’t known. How he could feel his heart sink from just the tone of Gwanyeong’s words, the expression on his face, which he had once only glimpsed on TV or screens.

His breath caught. He was frustrated. He hated the idea that he was the only one obsessing over those fluctuating numbers, rising and falling by one or two percent.

But the guide had just realized that the man in front of him would never understand this. Taehun, feeling his hand tremble, clenched his fist and spoke.

“If the score drops… the guide changes. You know that, right?”

The answer he had given to himself stung. The guide bit his lip unconsciously as the sharp thorns of his own words pierced him. Gwanyeong, with a face that betrayed no emotions, was looking at him. The silence, which said nothing, felt like an affirmation of his words, making him feel even worse.

Why did I fall for this person?

Swallowing his emotions, Taehun continued.

“You can meet another guide, but… what about me?”

“…Taehun.”

“If the score keeps dropping, and one day they say, ‘You’re no longer Gwanyeong’s guide,’ what then?”

The guide’s voice began to grow louder, resonating in the residence. The sentence that had started to sound agitated split apart, but Taehun couldn’t stop his words from continuing.

He had tried not to show it. He had really tried to hold back! There were a few remaining fragments of reason deep inside him, screaming for him to stop right now.

But Taehun ignored them.

“After greeting you, I’ll turn around and take that damn matching test again, looking for another Esper, but no, there won’t be anyone like you! For me, you were the only Esper!”

The guide, afraid to meet the eyes of Esper looking at him, covered his eyes with one hand. But even though he tried to avoid the gaze, he could still clearly feel the man’s stare, sharp as ever.

His throat ached as he forced those words out.

“So, what? Now, I’m not a guide, so I should just date someone else, get married, and live my life like that?”

Taehun muttered, his voice low and cracked.

“It must be nice. To be able to do that.”

In truth, the guide could barely stand. After shouting so much, it felt as though his strength had drained completely, right down to his toes. But he didn’t want to stumble and shake like a fool, so he stubbornly forced strength into his legs and tried to escape from Esper’s view. But before he could move, Esper moved first.

Taehun gasped as he was suddenly pulled with incredible force. No, what startled the guide more than the sheer strength was the look in Esper’s eyes—something he had never seen before.

“Do I look like I’m comfortable?”

Taehun forgot to breathe for a moment and stared blankly at Gwanyeong, who had pulled him in close. His jet-black eyes seemed to flicker. It was the eyes of a monster that had never shown any sign of hostility toward the guide before. His body bristled, and a chill ran down his spine.

“Is it not enough that I play with you in the palm of my hand?”

“…Ugh!”