Pretending to Be the Lover of an Esper C31

Chapter 31

“Ah, nothing. Just saying the Wave is soon.”

Fortunately, Taeon snapped back quickly, like he hadn’t even realized what kind of expression he’d been wearing a moment ago.
“Yes. Probably? I think they’ll post an official notice once it’s confirmed.”
“I see… then managing our condition is all the more important.”

He already knew that—but the way he said it, as if it had just occurred to him, felt oddly suspicious. Still, while he’d clearly been lost in thought, he didn’t look as bad as I’d feared.

A flicker of prying curiosity rose up in me, then died just as fast.
“Especially since when the Wave starts, it’ll probably be you and me heading out first, right? They paired us with such effort from above, so we might as well see if it works the way they intended.”
“Can’t argue with that. You must be tired—go in and rest.”

Tired? The unfamiliar choice of word made my shoulders twitch. It was strange—really strange. He’d been fine earlier, but after ducking out for a while, it was as if he’d come back a different person.

…Could that reconciliation of ours have actually triggered some shift in him too? It was a natural suspicion, though I almost wished it wasn’t true. For no reason I could name. Just…

“Uh, right. You rest too, Mr. Lee.”

In the end, I went along with it. “See you tomorrow,” I added in a rush before hurrying out of the guiding room. My bag rattled with every near-jogging step.

That night, I dreamed of Taeyoung-hyung.

Maybe because I’d been unconsciously aware of Taeon all evening—because inside me, those two men were connected in ways too big to ignore, for better or worse.

In the dream, I was looking at Taeyoung-hyung. The background is hazy in memory—it might’ve been the dorm we’d shared in Seoul, or perhaps just an ordinary city street.

He had his back to me. I wanted to see his face—not sure if it was out of human longing or guilt.

As I stood there staring at his back, someone approached from the distance. Even blurred, I knew exactly who it was: Taeon.

He walked right up to Taeyoung-hyung and said something I couldn’t hear. I just watched, frozen.

Hyung never turned to look at me. Then Taeon shifted his gaze my way. His face was faintly smiling—until it abruptly hardened.

The subtle warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced in an instant by stark contempt and hatred. I was startled… but also not. It was as if part of me had expected it.

He said something—maybe just a short word. Maybe a longer sentence.

“I’m sorry.”

I whispered it in the dim dawn as I surfaced half-awake. It didn’t take long to fall back asleep.

By the time I woke properly, the dream had already faded into vague mist, leaving only the sense of what had been.

Our search for the sensory-sharing switch was put on hold.

The day after I’d helped guide the four fainting trainees, the Center announced a Wave alert. The strange currents off the west coast had grown rougher and more erratic overnight.

The Center moved into emergency readiness immediately. Since we could be deployed at any time, most Espers and Guides were put on standby. All training was suspended, and agents were assigned according to the pre-designated likely emergence points.

Taeon and I were no exception. But our standby station wasn’t the main building—it was a coastal outpost. And not even in Gyeonggi Province.

We were in Songdo—a hub of high-rises convenient for helicopter dispatch, with coverage over the nearby sea and islands.

Because Center branches were based by province-level regions—Seoul, Gyeonggi, etc.—Incheon had to be covered by deployments from Seoul and Gyeonggi. For this round, Gyeonggi sent me and Taeon.

“Nothing new yet?”
“Nothing to speak of. Aside from Seongyeon telling me to bring back sashimi.”
“Gonna be a long wait for her, then.”

I smirked, settling into the seat beside a man watching news on a tablet—Han Seongwoo, a solo Esper dispatched from Seoul. We’d run into each other before when I’d been at the Seoul branch—just a month ago—but still. I’d been surprised to see a familiar face here in Songdo.

“How’s Seongyeon doing these days?”
“Started dating her partner.”

The news, dropped between rounds of a puzzle game, made my eyes widen.
“Older or younger?”
“Older. Two years older.”

Funny, she used to swear she’d never get closer than friends with her partner. A few months ago, she’d said as much.

People change, I thought, moved in spite of myself.
“And you, Ji. Not sticking with your partner?”
“We’re strictly business. Mutual respect for personal time and privacy—made a pact.”

His quiet laugh told me it sounded like a joke. Sadly, it wasn’t. I didn’t even know where Taeon was right now—and I didn’t much care.

The youth center we’d taken over for lodging was far too big for fewer than twenty people—agents, backup teams, investigator units. At the moment, the small auditorium we were using as a communal lounge was just Seongwoo-hyung and me.

It’d only get busier if a Wave hit Songdo itself, pulling agents in from other cities. Hopefully that never happened.

His game’s happy little pings and pops filled the quiet.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sat in such stillness—though now wasn’t really the time for it.

“…By the way, about Baek Woohyun.”
“Ah, we were having such a nice, lazy moment. Why bring him up?”

I’d learned long ago that Seongwoo often had a knack for odd timing, blurting random names and topics—but this one I didn’t welcome at all. My relaxed mood plummeted instantly.

“Just thought you should know—he’s single now.”

I didn’t even bother with the easy joke—Did his partner dump him?—because we both knew that wasn’t the point.

“Could happen to anyone. Look, even Seongyeon said she’d never date a partner and now she is. But honestly? I don’t see how knowing this benefits me.”
“Everyone knows how persistent he was with you.”

“…”

This time, I couldn’t even muster a token protest. My soured mood settled heavier, damp and oppressive.

“He’s not the type to do anything bad—but he provoked you enough. Solo Espers get sent to other regions often, so if a request goes to Seoul from Gyeonggi, he could show up. Won’t be like before—different assignments—but… just be careful.”

His tone was casual, but the concern beneath it was obvious. I mumbled an assent and hugged a cushion to my chest.

Solos were always first on the list for dispatch. If something in Gyeonggi needed a Seoul Esper, Baek Woohyun could be sent—and unless it was a lightning in-and-out job, I’d inevitably have to see him.

“Ugh.”

Another worry to add to the pile. And yet… maybe it was better to hear it now than get blindsided later.

A cheerful jingle brought me back—Seongwoo’s game cheering him on. Just a little more! You can do it!

Yeah. Whatever “it” was, I’d better do it. I let the sound be my background noise as I cleared my head.

And without warning, I wondered—where was Taeon right now? And what was he doing?

Third day on standby. Still no word of a monster sighting anywhere along the west coast. It was just past noon.

The tension in the air—a tautness that came with waiting for a Wave—was still intact, but if this dragged on much longer, boredom would set in. Some even worried aloud it might happen at night.

“Night would be bad.”

Visibility lower. Risk higher. Night hunts demanded more caution, more work.

“Sorry, what?”
“Just talking to myself.”

Apparently my mutter had been mistaken for his name; Taeon glanced up from his book with a distracted reply.

I waved a hand to dismiss it—go back to your page. He gave me a quizzical look, then returned to reading.

Strange.

Something about him was strange. I caught myself watching him from the corner of my eye, head bent over that book, and thought so again.