“I was just about to wake you. It’s no good once it gets cold. I made this while I was making mine.”
Cha Gweonwoo pointed at the bowl across from him, covered with a cloth. As I edged closer, I stole a glance at whatever video he’d been watching since morning—and nearly fell over in shock.
What the fuck? Eating breakfast while watching people mash their lips together first thing in the morning?
When I stared at him in horror, Cha Gweonwoo gave a shy little smile.
“I’m trying to study hard.”
Study? Study what?
“I heard espers need to study a lot for guides to feel more satisfaction.”
Look at those earnest eyes.
In all my life, I’d never seen an esper declare they were going to study hard for their guide’s satisfaction. I gawked with my mouth hanging open, and Gweonwoo blushed, fumbling out more words.
“We’ve synced pretty often, but since it’s my first time… it might not be satisfying enough.”
Eyes wide, I flailed both hands in denial. No, we’ve never gone that far, you’re seriously misunderstanding something here!
“N-no, we’re not—that’s not what we—”
“No, Guide. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worrying, I’m—”
“My nickname is Blotting Paper.”
…What? Blot—what?
“They gave it to me because once I learn something, I soak it all up. So just wait a little.”
Never had the words blotting paper and wait a little sounded so terrifying. This guy was more serious about mucosal guiding than anyone. My head was spinning.
Cha Gweonwoo ignored my panic and urged me to hurry up and eat.
“Go on, before it gets cold.”
“Uh…”
“Quickly.”
He was so insistent I had no choice but to pick up my spoon. His so-called “dainty” omurice, which he’d apparently worked hard on all morning, actually looked pretty tasty.
“How is it?”
I hadn’t even taken a bite, but his eyes were already sparkling as he asked. His gaze wasn’t going to let me off until I did, so I scooped up a big spoonful and shoved it into my mouth. Before I’d even chewed, I blurted:
“It’s good.”
Only then did Cha Gweonwoo, who’d been watching me anxiously, smile with his eyes crinkled.
“Thank goodness. I was worried it wouldn’t suit your taste.”
And honestly—it was better than I expected.
Hmm. One bite, then two. Before long I was shoveling it down, ignoring whatever he was saying, nose practically buried in the plate. What, did he lace this with drugs? Why’s it this good?
“Eat it with kimchi too.”
“Meh—”
He kept nagging—try the other side dishes, eat slower—but I didn’t have time for any of that. No wonder I was starving; I barely touched dinner yesterday. Of course I’d be hungry!
When I finally finished, Gweonwoo was smiling at me with the warmth of a father watching his eldest son home on his first army leave.
Wh-why the hell is he looking at me like that…?
I choked on the last grain of rice stuck in my throat. Coughing, clutching my neck, I hacked until Gweonwoo slid me a cup of water.
“By the way, I wanted to ask you something.”
Not knowing what fresh nonsense would come next, I gulped the water down fast.
“What do I usually call you, Guide Kim Doweon? ‘Guide Kim Doweon’ sounds too stiff. Doesn’t roll off my tongue.”
Of course it didn’t. Cha Gweonwoo had literally never called me anything.
He probably didn’t even know my name. No—scratch probably. A hundred percent, he didn’t.
I glanced aside, cup still in hand.
“Well, we never really had reason to—”
Across from me, Gweonwoo looked scandalized, eyes wide.
“Just call me whatever’s comfortable.”
“Whatever’s comfortable…” he echoed, face serious, as though pondering some grave matter.
“Do you know the drama Esper Task Force?”
Know it? Of course. I gave a short nod.
Esper Task Force—every Korean had seen it. Over ten years old now, that nationalist overdose set in an ability-user center. Back then, kids across the country dreamed of growing up to be either espers or guides. Looking back, it was absurd.
Not me, though. Even in grade school I wrote “instant millionaire” under future dream jobs. I was just a reality-worn brat.
I was drinking water and reminiscing when Gweonwoo suddenly perked up.
“The main character calls his partner guide ‘darling’ in that. Do people usually do that?”
Ugh—what the hell are you saying? I nearly spat out my drink and wiped my mouth quickly.
“No!”
An esper calling their guide “darling” inside the Center? The community boards would explode. ‘Is Guide Kim Doweon dating Esper Cha Gweonwoo?’ Hell, rumors would flood the Center before a post even went up.
“That’s just because it’s a drama! Normally it’s ‘Guide’ and ‘Esper,’ formal titles.”
“Do others also call you ‘Guide Kim Doweon’?”
“Yes.”
“Hm…” Gweonwoo crossed his arms tight, brow furrowing. Clearly dissatisfied.
“You’re my partner guide, so I want to call you something more special. In the drama, all the partners had their own nicknames.”
“That’s because it’s a drama.”
Dramas have ruined this country. Day after day, guides and espers strutting on screen, calling each other darling, baby, cherry, honeybee—of course kids believed it.
Before he could come up with something worse, I cut in.
“If ‘Guide Kim Doweon’ feels stiff, just call me ‘Guide Kim Doweon.’ Or ‘Mr. Kim Doweon,’ that’s fine too.”
My firm tone made him snap his mouth shut again. He looked a little sulky, but I ignored it.
Better dead than being called darling, baby, cherry, or honeybee.
After a beat of silence, Gweonwoo forced a smile.
“All right, Guide Kim Doweon.”
He rolled it around his mouth a few times, meaningless repetition. Then suddenly, he looked straight at me.
“Today’s my first training. Will you come watch?”
With that clear, earnest gaze, I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
“…I will.”
When I nodded, his face lit up like he’d just won the world. Like hair being sucked into a drain, I found myself mesmerized by that expression.
Sure enough, Cha Gweonwoo looks better smiling than frowning.
I muttered inwardly, then flinched and mentally scrubbed the thought out like an eraser.
What the hell am I thinking!
***
The training grounds were ten minutes away by car.
All the way there, Cha Gweonwoo stayed silent, lips clamped as if deep in thought. At times like this he was shockingly similar to the twenty-eight-year-old version of himself—naturally, he would be—and I didn’t dare poke at him, afraid I’d get smacked.
Must be nerves before training. From long experience, I knew to keep my mouth shut.
“Actually…”
Gweonwoo finally spoke.
“I think maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”
Pop. A vein stood out on my forehead.
The fuck? Trying to back out now? I pushed off a make-up exam just to be here, and this punk pulls this shit?
Still, his mood looked genuinely down, so I tread carefully.
Should I just bail? Ride with him to the Center and then head home?
“Well then…”
“Guide Kim Doweon…”
I hesitated, and at the same time, he spoke too.
“You go first.”
I gave way graciously.
“I think I’ll disappoint you.”
…What? My eyebrow shot up. I turned to look—his eyes and mouth drooped like a seven-year-old whose cracker had just been stolen by a pigeon.
“You’ve only ever seen S-class esper training…”
Only after his voice dwindled away did I get what he was worried about. Ridiculous. He had no reason at all to worry. He’d literally never invited me to his training ground before.
“Come on, don’t worry about that. It’s your first time, of course you won’t be perfect. Nobody’s good at the start.”
“…”
“I wasn’t, either. At first I—huh?”
If I told you how bad I was, you’d be shocked— I was about to dig my own grave when, out of nowhere, Cha Gweonwoo grabbed me in a crushing hug.
“I’m moved.”
That’s what he said.
He lunged so suddenly I thought I was about to get hit, raised my guard—and then froze, stunned, with him pressed against me.
Wh-what the hell? What are you doing?!