DPGR 21

Leaving the Guide Director behind, Dojin stepped out of the room. Of course, Jiho was with him.

He ignored the Director’s voice calling out to him from behind, pretending not to hear.

‘It really would’ve been the best decision to keep him as my Pair.’

With a stiff, stone-faced expression, Dojin continued his thoughts.

If he’d been left under someone like that…

Under outside pressure, Jiho might have ended up paired with the esper Park Gitae—the very one who assaulted him.

No, even if he hadn’t been paired with Park Gitae, he could’ve been left as an unpaired guide, exploited and tossed around unfairly.

Someone as gentle as Jiho wouldn’t even have protested—just quietly endured it all.

“Guide Jiho. Do you still want to pair with me?”

Dojin stopped in his tracks and looked back at Jiho, who was panting slightly. Jiho, breath shallow, nodded without hesitation.

Dojin reached out and gently brushed Jiho’s flushed cheek with the back of his hand.

“Good. Then let’s go right away.”

“…?”

“To the matching rate testing room.”

Even before Jiho was officially registered as a guide, Dojin rushed to get their matching rate tested. He intended to spread the word before the Guide Director could interfere.

***

“U-um, this isn’t usually how things are done…”

“Please. I’m asking you.”

The researcher was clearly uncomfortable, but couldn’t bring herself to turn down Dojin—usually so calm and courteous—too harshly.

Strictly speaking, there was no law requiring that guide registration and matching tests happen in a specific order.

Convincing herself it wasn’t a big deal, the researcher began attaching the testing device pads to different points on their bodies.

“Once the matching test is over, you have to complete the guide registration. I’ll get in trouble if you don’t.”

“Yes. Don’t worry.”

With one last warning, the researcher exited the room. Moments later, she took her place behind the glass partition and began speaking into the mic.

“Please stand facing each other. Try to relax—staying calm will help the results come out more accurately.”

Dojin looked at Jiho with soft eyes, noticing the tension in Jiho’s posture.

As their gazes met, some of the stiffness left Jiho’s shoulders.

“Now, please hold hands. Guide, you’ll release your guiding energy now. Just a small amount is enough—don’t overdo it.”

Dojin calmly extended his hand, face composed as always. Jiho looked at it for a moment, then gently placed his hand over Dojin’s.

That alone would’ve been enough, but Jiho, wanting to ensure the process went as smoothly as possible, laced his fingers through Dojin’s, intertwining their hands completely.

Their fingers pressed tightly together, and Dojin’s large hand closed snugly over Jiho’s.

“…Guide Jiho.”

Jiho flinched.

Dojin, body slightly tense, called out with an awkward tone. Jiho ignored it and focused, beginning to release his guiding energy.

I need to match our wavelengths as precisely as I can.

Jiho’s ability allowed him to freely shift his energy’s wavelength. Dojin had more difficult resonance patterns than most espers, so matching with him required intense focus.

Fuu—

With a soft sight, Jiho closed his eyes. His guiding energy flowed out, drawn into the point where his hand met Dojin’s.

“Urgh… W-wait…”

Adjusting the wavelength wasn’t hard—but controlling the amount of energy was something Jiho still struggled with.

Whether in the illegal facility or the Center, he’d always been forced to channel the maximum amount of guiding energy. That was the only way to survive.

Most espers preferred receiving high-quality guiding energy quickly—less time wasted, less suffering from energy deprivation, and on top of that, enhanced pleasure.

But Dojin wasn’t immune to guiding.

“Ugh…”

A groan escaped from between Dojin’s clenched teeth. Gritting them, he barely managed to call out to Jiho.

“Jiho… please… it’s too strong…”

“…?”

His voice was fragile—uncharacteristically so. Jiho opened his eyes in confusion.

Dojin’s face was flushed, and his breath came in shallow pants.

“S-slow down… just a little…”

He pleaded, clearly struggling to keep from pulling his hand away, lips pressed together tightly.

Jiho remembered the Dojin from before the regression. He used to tense up just like this whenever they did hand-guiding.

Too strong?

He’d never said that before.

Watching Dojin squirm, Jiho eased off the energy he was pouring in.

“Just… just a little more…”

Even this was too much?

Jiho wondered if he was exaggerating, but the pallor of Dojin’s face suggested he wasn’t lying.

He began gradually reducing the flow. It was the first time Jiho had ever tried to control his energy this way—it was clumsy.

“Haa…”

A quarter of a quarter of what he’d originally released—that’s how far he had to cut it back.

Only then did Dojin exhale in relief. He covered his face with one hand, clearly ashamed.

Beep—

Just then, the matching rate test concluded. The researcher’s voice came through the mic.

“Test complete. Please come out and wait about ten minutes for the results.”

Before the words even finished, Dojin gently let go of Jiho’s hand.

Jiho blinked.

Jiho blinked at Dojin. Dojin opened his mouth to speak, but his voice came out strained, like he was forcing the words.

“Please wait outside for a moment.”

—What about you?

At Jiho’s mouthed question, Dojin rubbed his brow.

“I… I need to step into the restroom for a bit.”

As he said it, the tips of his ears turned red. Jiho didn’t quite understand what that meant, but nodded obediently.

Ten minutes passed in a flash. Just as Dojin returned from the restroom, the researcher came rushing in, face pale, clutching the results sheet.

“L-look at this…!”

“99.99%!”

Her shrill voice was closer to a shriek than a cheer—though maybe it was a kind of cheer.

Jiho had already anticipated it. Dojin had known the number beforehand. Neither of them looked surprised.

But the others in the waiting room weren’t nearly as composed.

“Wait. What?”

“Ninety-nine point nine nine percent?”

Researchers mid-task, guides and espers awaiting their results—everyone turned their full attention to Jiho and Dojin, eyes wide.

If they had been sneaking glances before, now they were outright staring.

Even the groaning, zombie-like researchers rose to their feet and swarmed the woman holding the results.

“Let me see that!”

“Gasp! It’s real?”

“Is that a glitch or something?”

Buzz, buzz.

Some muttered about equipment malfunctions. Others insisted the result needed to be sent to the World Esper Organization.

Dojin didn’t particularly like noisy crowds, but he could understand the fuss. He’d frozen up too, the first time he saw the numbers.

Still, the greedy stares the other espers were directing at Jiho were starting to get on his nerves.

‘If you came for a test, then focus on your own guide, not mine.’

How dare they?

With a click of his tongue, Dojin reached out and pulled Jiho closer by the waist.

The espers who had been eyeing Jiho like vultures scowled and looked up—only to flinch and shrink back under Dojin’s icy glare.

“…Hm?”

Jiho, who had ended up practically nestled in Dojin’s arms, tilted his head in innocent confusion, clearly not understanding what was going on.

Like a small animal caught in a territory fight between wolves.

“Uh, E-esper Baek Dojin…”

A while later, a researcher pushed her way through the crowd of her colleagues and approached hesitantly, holding out the now slightly crumpled results sheet.

“I-I know this is a huge imposition, but…”

She was pale and trembling, casting nervous glances at Dojin, clearly wondering if he might snap her neck for saying what she was about to say.

“This is the first time we’ve ever seen a result like this…”

“Yes.”

“S-so, um… I mean… we’d like to see if the guide here could… maybe test with… other espers too…”

Before she could even finish, Dojin’s eyebrow lifted sharply. The silent pressure behind that single gesture made the researcher stumble over her words.

“I-it could be a machine error…”

“Then wouldn’t it make more sense for Guide Jiho and me to take the test again?”

“M-maybe Guide Seo Jiho is just… a really unique case…”

“Haa…”

Dojin himself was a rare multi-ability esper—was it so strange that there might be an exceptional case among guides too?

Like, say… a guide with a broader-than-normal energy spectrum.

He swept his gaze over the other researchers huddled behind her. Every one of them looked tense, but none of them were backing down.

Even though they knew all too well about the way espers became possessive of their guides—they still dared.

Dojin’s gaze sharpened. The researchers recoiled with startled gasps, but he didn’t pull back his pressure.

Truthfully, there was no need to get this worked up. It wasn’t like he was being asked to hand Jiho over. It was just a matching test.

But the reason Dojin bristled so much… was because he was entertaining the same suspicion.

What if Guide Jiho really is special?

What if Jiho simply had a broader guiding spectrum—and Dojin had just gotten lucky? What if Jiho wasn’t his guide, but someone who could match with anyone?

Then what?

Ever since he’d made the decision to pair with Jiho, Dojin had begun feeling an inescapable sense of possessiveness toward him.

Especially after that encounter with the Guide Director—even the last bits of hesitation lingering in his heart had completely vanished.

He’d been thinking, No one could take care of Jiho better than me. Jiho is my guide.

He didn’t want to share him. He was scared his doubts might turn out to be true.

But then Jiho, having picked up on the situation, gently tapped the back of Dojin’s hand.

When Dojin looked down, he saw Jiho’s clear eyes gazing up at him.