“…I don’t care.”
“You talk like you hate it so much, but then suddenly it’s fine now?”
Even though he’d said it was fine, Delroz’s mood soured.
“So what counts as an exception, then? As long as it’s helpful, it’s okay?”
“……”
“You’re… just too hard to figure out.”
When Banteon didn’t reply, Delroz’s expression darkened. His already sharp face was now shrouded in shadow. After staring out the window for a moment, Delroz let out a small sigh and turned his back.
As he turned, the slight parting of his shirt caught Banteon’s eye. A long strip of white—bandages wrapped around his chest and shoulders. It was a mark of battle that hadn’t been visible from the front.
There hadn’t been any recent situations where Delroz should’ve gotten injured. He wasn’t someone who got hurt easily. So capturing Rohan really hadn’t been an easy task after all.
Banteon instinctively reached out to stop him. But before his hand could touch Delroz’s shoulder, a firm grip seized his wrist and redirected it to the side. Delroz, having turned back around, had grabbed his wrist and moved it away.
“Ah…”
His hand hung awkwardly in the air before he withdrew it. Having silently tried to peek beneath someone’s clothes, Banteon awkwardly offered an excuse.
“I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”
Delroz’s expression, already as dark as it could get, turned even colder. Clicking his tongue softly, he shook his head.
“Still got the nerve to worry about the rapist, huh.”
“……”
“That’s why people say you’re kind when they talk about you. I guess your body’s doing fine already, huh?”
The words pierced through like ice. He said nothing, knowing exactly what Delroz was referring to.
That nightmare of a night when they’d tangled until dawn. The moonlight had painted Delroz’s face pale as he looked down at Banteon. The last image Banteon had of Delroz that night was his back as he left, looking beaten and withdrawn. But what image had Banteon left behind in Delroz’s memory?
The way he called himself a rapist—his voice held an emotion that could have been pain, or perhaps despair.
“If you really want to keep things strictly professional, like you said, then you’d better brace yourself and keep your distance. No more exceptions like today. If even the smallest crack opens… I might cling to you without realizing it.”
The voice sounded cold, but the words beneath weren’t. Behind that still-pained expression, his rigid eyes slowly shut.
“If you need anything about me, ask Petern. He probably knows just about everything. He’ll tell you if you ask.”
Delroz turned his back again and walked away, too far to stop. With civilian access restricted, the hallway was deserted. Only Delroz’s long shadow flickered and then vanished from sight.
The feeling of having his outstretched hand rejected for the first time was impossible to describe. Banteon stared at his palm for no reason, clenching and unclenching it repeatedly. All he wanted was to leave a word of thanks to Delroz, who had saved him from danger. That was all it was.
A simple thank-you. A routine greeting to ask how someone was doing. The kind of small talk anyone would share with someone they knew. Yet even that, Delroz had felt as a shake to his emotional core.
Delroz’s words—about avoiding anything outside of work—were exactly what Banteon had wished for. It was finally coming true, the thing he’d wanted for so long. So why didn’t it make him happy?
***
“Hyung. I’ll leave this stack on the right.”
The researchers were now mobilized to analyze Rohan, and the administration had launched a full-scale investigation to identify any employees connected to him. Naturally, all center activities were suspended. With a recommendation to stay in one’s quarters and avoid unnecessary outings, Banteon didn’t have many tasks he could handle.
But staying idle in his room or the study, doing nothing, with his mind so cluttered—it wasn’t an option. Since his younger brother was planning to stay at the center for a while, Banteon decided to put him to work. He gathered all the documents that might be related to Rohan’s identity. Normally, such investigations had to be conducted within the Center Library, but since his brother could move freely, they were able to access materials from the estate’s library and even classified archives housed within the royal palace.
“These two rows are what I got from the palace. Classified as forbidden texts—absolutely no leaking.”
“Got it. Must’ve been tough to get. Good job.”
“Well, it’s all thanks to my brilliant boyfriend.”
There were few things more annoying than hearing someone brag about their partner, but just this once, Banteon let it slide. He had to, since this wasn’t something he could’ve acquired—even with his skills—without his brother’s Guide.
“So? You think there’s a lead?”
“Time to find out. The center’s data was a lot less useful than I thought.”
“Yeah, makes sense. Who’d believe this crap anyway? A Psychic-Type Esper without a shadow?”
If anyone else had said that, he would’ve asked if they’d lost their mind. But he’d witnessed it himself—there was no room to argue. Knowing that, Baiheron had grumbled but still gathered the necessary materials.
Though he insisted paperwork wasn’t his thing, Baiheron sorted the documents exactly as Banteon directed. Thanks to his diligence, the towering piles were starting to take shape.
“He really is something though. Honestly, I’d planned to go toe-to-toe with him if we ever met properly—but I couldn’t even bring myself to try.”
“Huh?”
“That SS-Rank Esper. Delroz.”
Out of nowhere, Baiheron brought up Delroz as he moved his hands, mumbling to himself.
“I only had the guts to flirt with him because I believed in you, hyung. If not for that, I wouldn’t have dared say a word. The world really is unfair.”
“Hearing that from you sounds bizarre.”
For someone born with every privilege imaginable to complain about how unfair the world is—it felt oddly familiar. Maybe this was how others felt when Banteon grumbled about life. With a faint smile at the childish complaint, he kept his hands busy.
“Is he really that intimidating?”
“You need to at least see a crack somewhere to dig in, but there wasn’t a single opening. He just stood there quietly, and it felt like he was pressing down on me.”
“Didn’t feel that way to me. I’ve never felt any pressure from him.”
He’d thought Delroz had a harsh look when expressionless, or that his actions were rough at times—but he’d never felt the kind of aura Baiheron described. As Banteon shook his head, Baiheron chuckled.
“You don’t have to flaunt how loved you are, you know.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then why keep pushing him away when he clearly likes you? Is he just not your type?”
“……”
“Preferences are meaningless anyway. If he ends up with another Guide, you’re gonna feel bitter, you know?”
“Not a chance.”
Banteon was the one who told Delroz to find another Guide, even cleared the way for it. Baiheron had completely misunderstood, but when Banteon gave a firm answer, his brother just scoffed and ignored it. Baiheron, who cherished his Guide like his own heart, probably couldn’t understand. But Banteon and Delroz weren’t in that kind of affectionate relationship.
From the beginning, everything had been tangled and misaligned. Just when things seemed like they could finally go well, another problem would surface. They were two people destined to remain on parallel lines that should’ve never crossed—if it hadn’t been for that accident, if Delroz hadn’t gone berserk, they wouldn’t have been entangled at all.
“If another Guide shows up, I’ll immediately hand him over and walk away.”
“If one actually shows up, maybe then you’ll realize how you feel. By the way, didn’t Delroz have a previous Guide? What if you run into them and suddenly feel a jealous streak you didn’t even know you had…?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He’d read too many romance novels. Who the hell gets jealous over an ex-Guide? Just imagining such a cliché scenario made his skin crawl.
“He must’ve gone through testing with dozens of Guides when he first got to the Center. If I was going to get upset, it would’ve happened long ago.”
“But he must’ve had someone before the Center too, right? He said he awakened years ago before coming here. So who did he Guide with back then?”
“He said he just endured it.”
“Huh. Well, sometimes there are undetected Guides among commoners. Maybe he was seeing people like that. Don’t you know anything else? Like, his life before the Center?”
Baiheron’s question brought Banteon’s hands to a sudden stop.
“His past…”
“Yeah?”
“Baiheron. You said you felt pressure when you saw Delroz, right?”
“Yeah.”
“How much?”
As Banteon shot back the question, Baiheron frowned, tilting his head as if he didn’t understand.
“I don’t get what you’re asking. What’s this about all of a sudden?”
“Was the pressure you felt from Delroz the same as what you felt from Rohan?”
The request to compare an SS-Rank Esper to someone with an unknown identity left Baiheron puzzled. But the serious weight in Banteon’s voice left no room for jokes. He nodded.
“Well, when I first saw that guy, I just thought he was a nasty bastard. But when we fought, his whole vibe changed. Yeah, there was definitely pressure. But even then… compared to Delroz…”
He rested his chin on his hand, lost in thought, searching his memory. Banteon waited, unsure why Rohan’s words suddenly resurfaced in his mind.
“There aren’t many people who know your Esper as well as I do. We’re the same kind, after all.”
Rohan’s voice came back to him, so easily calling Delroz his own kind. And Delroz, narrowing his eyes at Rohan, full of edge.
Even when monsters rained down from the sky like a storm, Delroz hadn’t flinched—only moved to protect Banteon. He hadn’t seemed threatened at all. And even knowing Rohan’s brainwashing wouldn’t affect Banteon, Delroz still reacted with hostility.
