Delroz hadn’t shown any interest in academics—not back when Banteon had substituted as his instructor, and not today either. Even if he said “yes,” it was hard to believe he’d put genuine effort into the homework.
“Even if Teacher Yormin lets it slide, I’ll be checking personally.”
Most people would feel intimidated by Delroz’s background and wouldn’t dare criticize him properly. But Banteon had no intention of dumping the responsibility on someone else, especially not a teacher. If no one else was going to take it seriously, he would.
If Delroz slacked off in the Matching class and made mistakes, it would be Banteon who paid the price.
If the session dragged on because Delroz was unprepared, or if it caused problems, he was absolutely going to speak his mind. Determined, he stepped out of the training room.
***
As soon as Banteon returned to his room, he opened the homework packet. Inside were a book and some audiovisual materials that could be played via hologram.
The book was thin. Estimating how long it might take, he launched the familiar program and hit play. A translucent hologram rose from the flat, square device, with the Royal Esper Center’s logo spinning in the air.
While the hologram loaded, Banteon opened the book. Flipping past the cover and the first page, he reached the table of contents—then froze, his finger halted mid-motion.
“What the…?”
A voice full of disbelief escaped him. His eyes raced down the page anyway.
1) Efficiency Based on Contact Areas Between Guide and Esper
2) Bedroom Etiquette and Safety Rules
3) Manual of Appropriate Positions and Postures
…
…
With trembling hands, Banteon turned the page.
There’s no way the Center would distribute something like this to students. It’s not like their education system had turned into porn. This had to be some kind of formal framework—just for protocol.
His hopes were crushed just a few pages later. The sheets were filled with graphic, explicit content that made it hard to keep reading. Nude illustrations and raw descriptions filled every corner of the paper, leaving his vision swimming in flesh tones.
As Banteon reeled from the shock, a thin, breathy voice tickled his ear.
“Ah… ngh… mm… aah…”
A sultry voice moaning, panting, breath hitching in rising desperation. Then came the lewd, unmistakable sound of skin slapping skin.
The hologram he had set up earlier was now playing a scene with two nameless men engaged in a blur of flesh-colored movements.
“Hah… ah…!”
One of them writhed and whimpered in a wet gasp. Banteon lunged to cover the screen with his hand, but of course that didn’t stop the hologram. Flailing in a moment of disoriented panic, he eventually managed to find the power button and press it. Only then did the flood of fleshly spectacle vanish from the room.
His tightly clenched lips trembled. His fingers were still quivering.
Calm down. First, figure out what the hell just happened…
He took a sip of the now-lukewarm tea sitting nearby, trying to compose himself. His trembling fingers stroked the smooth ceramic cup. He wasn’t shocked by the content itself—it wasn’t like he was some sheltered child just discovering sex for the first time. What shook him was the fact that this had come from the Center.
Gradually, his breathing evened out. Right… Matching could lead to all kinds of unexpected situations. It made sense to be prepared. Better to learn this properly than get the wrong idea somewhere else. This wasn’t such a big—
“Check the homework thoroughly. Don’t skim through it.”
Only then did Banteon remember what he’d told Delroz just moments ago.
“Ah…”
What the hell had he said? Tearot once said that there are situations where cursing is the only appropriate response—and now, Banteon felt that deep in his bones.
He buried his head on the table, cursing his loose tongue and thoughtless mouth. The empty teacup rolled off the edge onto the soft carpet, spinning away from him with a mocking elegance.
***
Unwanted moments always arrived far too quickly. With a reluctant motion, Banteon straightened his attire. Once he’d neatly combed his hair and put on his glasses, the usual tidy reflection stared back at him from the mirror.
The only difference was the dark shadow under his eyes—courtesy of that damned hologram.
He had told Delroz to go over everything carefully, and so he’d done the same, forcing himself to finish the entire thing.
From the very beginning, the hologram had practically snatched his soul. As it went on, it only grew more and more absurd, to the point “spectacle” was the only word that fit.
It wasn’t like Banteon was sexually repressed. He changed partners regularly and didn’t place much importance on rigid morality as long as both parties were enjoying themselves.
Even so, the detailed depictions—even instructions on how to use certain tools—had him pausing the video more than once. He never imagined the Center would provide material this graphic in an official setting.
The thought that Delroz had seen it too made him want to jump out of bed screaming. The guy already had issues with being guided by men, and now he’d been shown a video of two men going at it in every position imaginable…
He rubbed his throbbing temple. He really didn’t want to go, but he had to. Today, his collar felt especially tight around his neck. He loosened it with his fingers and stepped out of the room with heavy steps.
As he neared the training room, a figure caught his eye instantly. Delroz. Clearly recognizable even from a distance.
He could’ve gone inside and waited like a normal person. Why did he always wait outside like that? It’s not like he was going to start a conversation. He never had a reason to linger, yet there he stood—again.
Of all days, it had to be today that he really didn’t want to see that face. Banteon’s brows furrowed as Delroz stood waiting for him.
“……”
There was no need to bring up the homework first. No reason to provoke something unnecessarily. Banteon silently passed by him. Fortunately, Delroz also fell into step beside him without saying a word.
Maybe he’d finally learned to pretend not to notice awkward situations. Unlike his usual attitude—where he’d either lash out or mock someone—his quiet demeanor helped soothe Banteon’s tensed-up heart. Yeah, that assignment must’ve been a disaster for Delroz too. No way he’d want to be the one to bring it up first.
Banteon made an effort to look calm as he opened the door to the training room.
“You’ve come together again today.”
Teacher Yormin greeted them with a smile. Just like before, she looked elegant, not a single wrinkle on her perfectly put-together outfit. It was the same image as last time, yet today’s impression was quite different.
She’d handed them that outrageous hologram with this smiling face. Trusting people based on appearances was clearly a mistake.
“Did you finish your homework?”
“……Yes.”
“It was a bit surprising, wasn’t it?”
Banteon forced his expression to remain neutral and gave a small nod. Yormin, as if unaware of anything strange, cheerfully pulled out a new textbook. Thankfully, unlike the previous assignment, this one was filled with normal, light material.
A small sigh of relief slipped out without him realizing. Yormin smiled at his reaction.
“When the partners are both male, there are more things to consider, after all. The material can be a bit extensive.”
She was referring to what could only be described as a pornographic marathon of poor taste. But even with her explanation, Banteon couldn’t begin to grasp how any of that related to what needed to be “considered.” It hadn’t just been basic sexual knowledge—there had been things in there he’d never even heard of.
For someone like Banteon, who had zero intention of making contact with Delroz, and Delroz, who only ever slept with women, the entire thing had been utterly unnecessary.
“If your partner’s gender changes, do you have to retake the course?”
“No need to retake it. If you request it, we’ll send you the hologram again.”
At that, Delroz’s eyes shifted toward Banteon. He had only asked the question on Delroz’s behalf—since he might get a female Guide someday—but for some reason, Delroz was giving him a look of pure contempt. Completely incomprehensible.
Yormin opened the book and reassured them gently.
“Since your contract is only temporary, there won’t be any deep contact. It’s just a formality, so try not to worry. Let’s begin the lesson now.”
The class proceeded similarly to before. The content was a bit more advanced this time, focused on missions and combat situations. As the lesson continued, Banteon gradually relaxed. The material was useful and completely different from the depraved homework, and, to his relief, Delroz didn’t seem inclined to bring it up either.
Two hours passed—short if you called it short, long if you called it long—and the temporary guiding education came to an end. Yormin tapped on her device to mark their training as complete.
“Oh, right. Would you like to apply for partner trackers?”
“What’s that?”
“They’re usually used by matched partners to check each other’s location and condition. Even if you’re temporary, you’re in a one-on-one match, so it might be a good idea.”
It sounded nice when she said “to check on each other,” but it was basically a surveillance tool. Banteon’s brows creased as he listened to the explanation.
“Then maybe we shoul—”
“No. We don’t need it.”
Delroz was about to agree, but Banteon cut him off flatly. With a polite smile, he turned to Yormin.
“I’ll be staying inside the Center anyway, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Right, I remember now—Delroz mentioned that even if he gets dispatched, you prefer to stay at the Center.”
Delroz nodded at Yormin’s words. Banteon turned toward him, surprised. It was the first he’d heard of it.
Now that he thought about it, it was an issue he’d completely overlooked. If Delroz got sent on a mission without a matched Guide, Banteon, as his temporary one, would have to go with him. Since Delroz hadn’t been dispatched yet, it had slipped his mind entirely. Apparently, Delroz and the higher-ups had already agreed on that arrangement.
