Pretending to Be the Lover of an Esper C17

Chapter 17

I took a moment to reflect on my own attitude, cleared my throat, and said,
“It’s fine, Mr. Lee Taeon. It happens. It’s a normal reaction. I’ve heard people say sensory sharing can feel like being tipsy—lightheaded, in a pleasant way. Not always, but sometimes.”

“And you, Mr. Ji Yunseong?”
“Me?”
“I’m asking how you felt.”
“Well… me…”

How had I felt? Massaging the back of my neck, I went over the events from just a few dozen minutes earlier. It hadn’t been long, so it was easy to recall. And yet…
“I didn’t feel much.”

Unlike Taeon, who had been a little dazed and giddy, I really hadn’t experienced anything like that. Sure, there was a degree of improvement—but never anywhere near the level he felt. That had been true the first time, and it was true this time as well.

Even when sensory sharing happened, I only took on as much of his perception as my body could bear without strain.
If there had been any flicker of excitement, in hindsight it was more like combat motivation than anything else.

“There’s a bit of exhilaration, maybe some thrill. Feeling an Esper’s animalistic awareness firsthand in combat is definitely enjoyable. Makes you feel stronger than usual for a while. And I was briefly envious, wondering if Espers always fight with that kind of sensory sharpness. But that’s it—just a mild rush. No pronounced mood change that affects my actions like yours did.”

“So in other words, Mr. Ji Yunseong, you’re saying…”
“That any heightened state I get isn’t even close to yours.”

Unfortunately, that’s what it was. I looked at him with a deliberately sympathetic expression, but his eyes slid just past my face.
“I’m the only one who reacts like that, then.”

His face seemed even colder than before. If someone had told me he’d gotten drunk, lay down in the street, hugged a stranger, and fallen asleep dancing—he’d still look livelier than this.

“Seriously, it’s nothing to dwell on. True, it’s probably embarrassing for you right now, but the reason the Guide stays relatively unaffected compared to the Esper is because the sensory sharing ‘switch’ is inherently tied to guiding.”

A Guide can’t guide themselves, nor be guided by another Guide—so naturally, they’re less influenced.

“It’s an involuntary phenomenon. Like clouds produce rain, wind stirs up waves—sensory sharing makes the Esper feel good enough to try things they normally wouldn’t. Guides don’t get that effect.”
“…”
“Okay, I’ll cancel the ‘things they normally wouldn’t do’ part.”

Frankly, not every Esper reacted like that—I’d heard he was just a little unusual.
Still, the general truth was that sensory sharing tended to put Espers in a good mood. Ask around, and most who’d experienced it would admit to feeling some degree of happiness.

Even in Taeyoung-hyung’s case, he said that during brief sensory sharing, there truly was a little joy and excitement.
I hesitated to bring him up, unsure if it would be wise—until the moment passed.

“I don’t know… still, in my case—forget it.”
Taeon ended the exchange himself.

Honestly, there’d been nothing wrong with his behavior at the time—it might even be considered a benefit. That level of heightened engagement could easily help, whether in training or a real fight.
In a normal, well-matched partner team, you could even boast about such synchronization. Well… if we were one of those normal, friendly teams.

The silence seemed to help ease the earlier awkwardness. Taeon raked his hair back, glanced at his damp palm, and clicked his tongue.
Seeing that left me oddly calmer—whether it was satisfaction or relief, I couldn’t decide.

“It honestly wasn’t that bad. You were just more lively and proactive than usual—almost like the ideal partner attitude—”
“Guide Ji Yunseong.”
“Sorry.”

I turned my head away from him and tapped my lips lightly with my fingers. That cold gaze withdrew soon after.

“Alright, shall we get back to guiding?”
I forced a bright tone into my voice—but he stayed silent, closed off again.

“What now, Mr. Esper?”
“About sensory sharing…”

Hadn’t we already finished that topic? Or was there more? I stared, puzzled.
Still avoiding my gaze, seemingly absorbed in thought, Taeon spoke:
“They say that once it happens even by coincidence, it’s possible to control it afterward. Could we do it now?”

Odd question, but not completely random.
“Oh—the switch-hunting, right? It can be controlled, but not right this moment. We’d have to mimic the exact energy flow from before. That usually takes multiple repetitions—sometimes dozens—before it works.”

The process of triggering sensory sharing was straightforward: experience it once, then replicate the exact energy flow from that moment.

“Guiding energy’s like a big river—a massive current that generally stays steady. But imagine wind blowing a log or rock into it. The main current is unchanged, but little ripples form. And sometimes—those ripples help. The wind, the log, the rock—all happening, by chance, to land exactly where they’re useful.”

“So when you say ‘mimic the flow’…”
“I mean recreate all those chance conditions—wind strength and direction, the size, weight, and shape of the log or rock. Every detail.”

Mistakes were inevitable—it was repetitive trial-and-error work. In our case, having experienced such a rare coincidence twice was already unusual.

“Of course, it’s not easy. And partners must have had sensory sharing at least once to start with—which we have, so that’s fine. But the harder part is pinpointing exactly what the guiding energy’s flow was like at that moment.”

“Hard to recall, huh?”
“Mr. Lee, can you remember how my energy wrapped around you back then?”

He grew thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head.
“Vague, at best. I mostly remember my own senses as sharper than yours.”

As expected. I nodded.
“Same here. I can recall your wave movements perfectly. But my own energy? Just a hazy impression.”

“So the sensitivity to guiding energy drops?”
“Because during sensory sharing, my Guide body was tuned more to your Esper senses than to my own.”

Looking back, I moved more by following your shared perception than my own conscious thought. Esper senses tend to overshadow the Guide’s, simply by being stronger and clearer.
“I can still vividly recall exactly how your wave moved at the start.”

But that alone wasn’t enough—what mattered more was not that the wave changed, but how guiding energy could direct it.

“A tricky problem.”
“Not simple…”

After a pause, I said,
“Reviving sensory sharing is basically grunt work. Even if you recreate the coincidence, you often need extra techniques to boost synchronization further. It’s not always worth the time or effort in the usual case.”

For example, with Taeyoung-hyung, to match the level I had with you would require at least five years of constant fine-tuned guiding—wasteful in stamina and time.
That’s why the first experience matters: a starting point stable enough to build on without too much strain.

“…But since ours lasts nearly ten minutes at a time and has high synchronization, I’d say it’s worth the effort.”

The reason he brought this up was obvious: Taeon wanted to experience it again—properly, for tactical use. Especially after today’s success, his desire had only grown.
He’d stick his pride aside to ask if that’s what it took.

“…Can we do it?”
“You’re the one who said it’s possible even if the coincidence doesn’t happen again. And you’ve already proven that.”

My tone surprised me—calm, almost matter-of-fact. Not a hint of sarcasm.
He seemed to notice, watching me intently.

“I think we can. No—I know we can.”

By then, I had already agreed inwardly.
Not out of any desire to watch him dazed again, feeling superior—or to boast about granting his request—but simply out of curiosity. I wanted to see how it would perform in a real mission, outside of training.

“We agreed to give our best for a year, professionally. And honestly, this is my first sensory sharing with such high intensity…” I added with an awkward smile.

He was quiet for a beat, then let out a brief laugh—really more like the barest curve of a smile.
“Good. Then let’s record the numbers for today as planned, and we’ll try again whenever we get the chance.”

I had the feeling it wouldn’t take long.

I switched on the stat reader. The soft whir of its machinery filled the quiet guiding room.