Episode 15
“Ah…”
Her bias — the very person she’d been fangirling over — suddenly appeared right in front of her.
Before Yeongwon could even get drunk on the joy of meeting her idol, she noticed a faint scent first.
It wasn’t light, but deep — sweet but never cloying. It gently swept past her like a breeze.
“Is that… his scent?”
“Even his smell is perfect? Are you kidding me?”
The unexpected sensory overload made her lose her focus and stutter.
“Ah… h-hello.”
God, please tell her she didn’t just lose all the cool she’d barely managed to pull off last time.
Yeongwon forced out a weak greeting, then immediately panicked inside.
“Yes, hello.”
Kim Yeohyeon looked relaxed — beige knit sweater, black slacks.
Compared to the formal uniform that always seemed to choke the air around him, this felt softer, less suffocating.
Even so, his presence was overwhelming as ever.
His beautiful hand moved — opened the door wider — and with the other equally perfect hand, he handed her a shopping bag.
“It’s your custom-made guide uniform.”
Tap.
“I’ll leave it at that.”
“Ah… yes.”
She couldn’t help but think: shouldn’t combat-type espers have rough, scarred hands if we’re keeping things realistic?
But nope — those flawless hands were a crime in themselves.
“Seriously, hands that pretty should be illegal. Life sentence-worthy.”
The phrase “Hand-holding guiding” suddenly flashed like an alarm in her head.
It didn’t feel like something she’d be able to do easily — not without losing her composure and turning into a lovestruck fool.
“Do you have time right now?”
“Yes.”
Mentally preparing for anything, Yeongwon followed him out — hoping she could hold onto her dignity like she did last time.
Step, step.
From behind, his shoulders looked like an ocean — vast, endless.
“Okay, enough. Stop simping.”
“You’ve hit your daily limit of thirst. Any more and even I’ll get tired of myself.”
Determined to get her act together, Yeongwon followed him into his study.
“Please, sit.”
He gestured toward the sofa across the table. She didn’t refuse and sat down first.
“A-rank, top 50.”
“That’s what I heard you might be.”
Just as Yeongwon hadn’t wasted time on small talk, neither did Yeohyeon.
“For the Deputy Director’s reverse-guiding to have no effect at all, you’d have to be at least that strong.”
At that, Yeongwon recalled the handshake she’d had with Esper Lee Changgyeol a few days ago.
That day, Director Lee had tried to reverse-guide her — right there in the underground hallway of the annex, sixty floors below, where AIs were monitoring everything.
Considering how serious reverse-guiding was — it was like a civil servant snorting cocaine inside his government office.
The result? Nothing happened.
He thought he was taking a hit, but it was an empty packet.
Lee Changgyeol had completely failed.
Even an average A-rank guide would’ve lost something. But from Yeongwon, he couldn’t take a single thing.
“Go Yoryeon unni’s boss… he could’ve been fired and jailed on the spot if caught. Dude’s kind of a gambler.”
Apparently, that information had reached Kim Yeohyeon later on.
Maybe because he realized it wasn’t a bluff, or maybe because he’d stabilized himself with enough mechanical guidance lately .
But compared to their first meeting, his attitude toward Yeongwon was definitely more relaxed.
That heavy, suffocating tension was gone.
His tone and movements were less stiff, too. He even looked a bit younger this time.
Not exactly friendly, but… less distant, at least.
“I’ve taken care of everything related to the Center — your assignment report and all that.
I figured…”
“You probably don’t want to go back under their watchful eye.”
“You’re hiding something, aren’t you? It’s something you really don’t want them to find out.”
Honestly, the reason she didn’t want to leave the house was just that — she didn’t want to leave. Nothing deeper than that.
But since he’d built such a serious backstory for her, she decided to roll with it.
“Yes.”
“I’d rather stay somewhere the Center can’t directly monitor.”
The conversation felt like deja vu — back to their tone from the first meeting.
“If possible, I’d like to stay here. I don’t go out at all.”
Leaning comfortably back in her chair, Yeongwon smiled calmly.
Yeohyeon watched her in silence.
Neither knew what the other was truly thinking.
At least there wasn’t any hostility.
Now that they were locked into an indefinite cohabitation with uncertain terms, both of them tread carefully.
“I understand that you have things you want to keep secret.”
Yes.
“I’m relieved, too. The Center’s been pushing me to choose a personal guide, and now that I have one, I’m free from that pressure.
So, I won’t demand that you tell me everything right away.”
“Even if you were a threat to national security — keeping you here, under my watch, is safer for the country than sending you back.”
He’d clearly organized his thoughts before coming here.
“I won’t force you back to the Center.”
His voice was calm, logical — no sharpness like before.
Still, she couldn’t completely relax.
If anything, this calm made him even harder to read — which made him more dangerous.
“If you want, stay here. I’d prefer that, too.”
“Yes, I’ll stay.”
She accepted his offer immediately.
“And the thing you mentioned before — your request.”
“You said it was something clear you wanted in return, right?”
Yeongwon blinked, dazed.
“Wait… what? Here? Now?”
“Right, heaven does have angels…”
But she couldn’t think of anything else to ask for.
Everything she’d wanted — she’d already accidentally gotten.
“Next time,” she said, trying to sound mysterious.
Yeohyeon nodded slightly, then changed the subject.
“Have you ever done guiding with a match rate under 50%?”
“No.”
In truth, she hadn’t done it at all.
The Center had tried to schedule practice matches, but she’d always made excuses — like her match-rate test not being done yet.
She couldn’t risk exposing her SSS-grade ability.
Nervously, she clenched her fists. His gaze flicked down to her hands, then back up again.
He looked thoughtful.
“If her vessel were emptier, I might’ve suggested guiding today… but she looks fine.”
“When I asked Go Yoryeon about it before leaving, she said pain isn’t the only reason she avoids guiding…”
“There are rumors she absolutely hates doing it with humans.”
So he didn’t suggest guiding — or reverse-guiding — today.
Not at the time.
And Yeongwon had no intention of offering either — no need to risk rejection when he’d already said she could stay.
“I’d rather not receive guidance if possible,” she admitted.
Her words matched his thoughts.
“If we do end up doing it, you’ll be in a lot of pain. Be prepared.”
“Yes.”
The study fell quiet for a while.
“I’m serious,” he said.
“About what?”
“It’ll really hurt.”
He repeated it, firmly.
Yeongwon didn’t answer right away. Instead, she wondered what kind of person feared another’s pain more than his own.
“You worry too much,” she said softly.
“I told you I could handle it. I meant it — I still do.”
She smiled — calm but bright.
It was the first time she’d smiled like that in front of him.
His eyes lingered on her face a moment longer than usual.
“And, you know, I just found something out,” Yeongwon said, clearing her throat.
“Yes?”
“We’re the same age. We even share the same birthday.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“I know. Your basic profile isn’t even on Wiki, so I asked Guide Go Yoryeon to find out for me.”
And with that, she brought up something she’d been thinking about for days.
“How about we drop the formal speech?
“Since we’re the same age — let’s just talk casually, like friends.”
Her eyes sparkled.
“February 17th. Same day.”
“Which means your birthday’s coming up soon, you know?”
Her heart thumped — she wanted to be friends with her favorite person in the world.
“Does it bother you?”
“Do you not like me?”
She went full “answer-is-in-the-question” mode.
“Talking casually — that’s one of my clear requests. That’s my price.”
She decided to use the “card” she thought she’d save for later.
“Then… do I…”
“Yes,” she interrupted.
“Have to drop honorifics too?”
Yeongwon thought for a second. His slightly exasperated expression made her feel guilty about pushing.
“If it’s uncomfortable, we can take it slow.”
“Alright then… You go first. Speak comfortably.”
“Okay, sure. Yeohyeon-ah, nice to be working with you.”
If you’re going to drop honorifics, go all in — hesitation only makes it awkward.
The key is confidence — fake it early, fake it well.
And Yeongwon followed that rule perfectly.
“Also, give me your number. C’mon, hand me your phone.”
“It’s part of my demands, okay? A requirement.”
Without argument, Yeohyeon handed it over.
No password lock.
She entered her number, called herself, and saved his contact in her phone too.
For style points — and out of a firm belief that she should be as trendy as other same-age duos like Baek Yul and Lee Changgyeol — she gave their contacts a modern, youthful vibe (well, “youthful” according to her).
On Yeongwon’s phone, Kim Yeohyeon was saved as:
[My Partner Yeohyeonie ]
On Yeohyeon’s phone, Shim Yeongwon appeared as:
[My Partner Yeongwonie ]
Yeohyeon didn’t even check the saved name — just slid his phone back into his pocket.
“Sleep well.”
No meaningless small talk followed. Their short “negotiation” was done.
Back in her room upstairs, Yeongwon flopped face-first onto her bed.
Sleep, which usually came easily, took its time tonight.
She grabbed her phone and checked his Messenger profile.
Just as expected — blank. No photo, no status.
She stared at his saved name, expression caught between pride and doubt.
Was this… too much?
She tried to remember if she’d ever saved a friend’s name with just their first name and an emoticon.
Back in middle and high school — never.
Otherwise, she’d forget their last names.
But then again…
“So what if it’s the first time?”
There’s a first for everything.
Yeongwon looked at the little emoticon beside his name and smiled faintly.
It was meant to be a friendly, positive expression — but somehow, it looked a little smug.
Probably just her imagination.
