Banteon had noticed—with the slightest difference—that Delroz was only pretending to follow proper Guiding protocol.
“That’d be nice. Then I could skip all this annoying duty and only do it when I really need to.”
He replied ambiguously, steering the conversation elsewhere. The only people who knew Banteon’s secret were his younger brother and Tearot. People he could trust without a shadow of doubt—no chance of anything leaking. He had absolutely no intention of telling Delroz.
“Then I’m glad it’s not true.”
Relieved at Delroz’s seemingly reassured demeanor, Banteon withdrew his hand. His assigned quota was done for the day, so they wouldn’t need to see each other again for a while.
Once Delroz finally let go of his pinky, which he’d been holding onto till the very end, Banteon wiped his hand with the handkerchief he’d prepared in advance. Delroz stared at him without looking away, gaze fixed on his hands like he was trying to drill a hole through them.
“Do you need it?”
“Need what?”
“The handkerchief.”
Banteon always considered it a necessity, but Delroz didn’t seem like the type to bother with delicate things like handkerchiefs. With a magnanimous air, he held out a spare one. Surely Delroz found their physical contact just as unpleasant.
Delroz stared intently at the neatly folded white handkerchief, only to snatch the one Banteon had already used.
“This one’s fine.”
“I already used that.”
“This one’s prettier.”
So the man had aesthetic preferences? Despite everything, he knew what looked good—of the two, he picked the pricier, higher-quality one. Banteon felt a pang parting with it, not because of the cost, but its rarity.
He had expected the fine embroidery to look absurd in Delroz’s hands, but somehow, the thin fabric suited his thick fingers strangely well. He must’ve shed a lot of his rustic awkwardness during his time at the Center.
Banteon took another good look at Delroz.
When he first arrived at the Center, people said he looked wild and handsome, a sentiment Banteon could not agree with even one percent. But now… he looked more polished. Still dressed in his own disheveled way, of course.
But it wasn’t just his appearance that had changed.
When Banteon had first encountered Delroz, the man had been nothing but rude—someone he’d never want to associate with. Especially that time after watching the “homework” porn video, when he grinned like an ass… Even now, the memory made his vision go dark. He had seriously wondered how he was going to survive if things continued like that. Thankfully, Delroz had never brought it up again.
Maybe time was the answer. Banteon gradually got used to his coarse language, and Delroz, in his own way, had been showing some manners. Thanks to that, the tense, unpleasant encounters that used to happen every time they met had now dropped to about once every three times.
However, ever since learning in the hologram classes that physical contact increased guiding efficiency, Delroz had started touching him more frequently. Things like lacing their fingers during guiding, or sitting unusually close.
For someone who once hated touching other men, the fact that Delroz was grinding through Center education was unexpected. He never used to listen to a single word others said.
Impressed by his effort, Banteon spoke with a generous tone.
“If the Center’s demands are too much, you don’t have to take them so seriously.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t have to force yourself to touch me for guiding. I already know you hate men, so I’ll play along if you just pretend a little. It’s fine to only do it when it’s urgent.”
Delroz frowned, as if he couldn’t comprehend what Banteon was saying. He gave him a strange once-over before speaking.
“I think you’re misunderstanding something. I’m already holding back a lot.”
“And I’m telling you—you don’t have to.”
“……”
Was it just his imagination? Delroz’s gaze suddenly grew colder. Maybe he was annoyed Banteon was meddling.
“If I don’t hold back, you’re the one who’s gonna be in trouble.”
‘What would be so troubling?’ Banteon studied Delroz’s expression, confused by his unexpected reaction. A man like Delroz, who always did whatever he wanted—if there was something he had to hold back, it could only mean one thing. Seeing the strange emotion flicker across his frown, Banteon was sure of it.
‘He must be barely tolerating the fact that his Guide is a man, so I’d better not provoke him.’
The somewhat peaceful mood suddenly dropped like cold water splashed over it.
‘This is what I get for trying to be considerate…’
The thought alone made him feel foolish. Regretting his unwelcome concern, Banteon stood and grabbed the coat draped over his chair.
“Fine. Thanks for holding back.”
“……”
Just like Delroz said—better to get out of here while he was still holding back. There was no telling when that volatile guy might snap.
As Banteon moved to leave in haste, Delroz also stood abruptly.
“Lately… you haven’t been walking in the garden?”
The unexpected question stopped him in his tracks.
Banteon often took walks along a set path in the garden. But lately, with the rumors and the stares, he hadn’t gone out. He’d been staying holed up in the library or his room. Delroz must’ve heard about it from somewhere.
“I’ve been tired.”
“Are you feeling unwell or something?”
“Just too lazy, that’s all.”
“Hmph…”
He gave a half-hearted reply, wanting nothing more than to get out of there, and walked away.
***
Left alone in the room, Delroz leaned forward with his chin in his hand. His large frame seemed to sink, exuding a menacing weight. Unlike the calm composure he’d shown just moments ago, a dense heaviness now filled the room.
Beyond the closed door, the sound of footsteps faded rhythmically into the distance. He held his breath, waiting in silence until that sound completely disappeared. Only then did he exhale the breath he’d been holding in.
‘It’s hard. There’s nothing harder than this.’
As he rubbed the handkerchief in his hand, the thin fabric frayed between his fingers. Even without applying much pressure, it tore and wore out so easily. He had no idea how to handle something like this.
Pull it, and it might tear. Push it, and it might collapse.
Delroz knew well that he wasn’t a patient man. He was unaccustomed to situations where he had to endure and wait.
‘What should I do?’
In the end, he found himself hesitating at the crossroads where only he could choose the path ahead. He was too confused to entrust it to someone else—he hadn’t even sorted out his own feelings.
Annoying. Aggravating. Constantly on his mind.
He couldn’t keep living the way he always had. Whenever something broke under his whims, he tossed it away without a second thought. That kind of life was second nature to him—but if he acted that way now…
A deep wrinkle formed between his brows as he pictured the future flashing through his mind.
***
“Instructor!”
From a distance, Keslan came running, waving his hand. It was the first time they’d crossed paths since the Subjugation Squad mission. As he drew nearer, his face twisted with distress came into full view.
“Is it true, Instructor? That you got matched with that savage? What the hell happened? Didn’t he say he couldn’t work with men?!”
Without even catching his breath, Keslan bombarded him with questions as soon as he got close. Truth be told, Banteon wanted to ask the same thing.
Once he’d calmed down a bit, Keslan looked up with watery eyes.
“So it’s true? You’re really matched with him?”
“It’s just a temporary Guide match.”
“I knew it… I knew that bastard would pull something like this!”
Keslan stomped in frustration, fuming with rage boiling up from within. The display was almost cute—but the content wasn’t. His tone made it sound like he’d expected Delroz and Banteon to be matched.
Pointing to his own leg, Keslan explained to Banteon that his ankle had been broken just before he was supposed to be dispatched to the abandoned mine, forcing him to return to the Center in a rush.
“It was the day after we met in that tent. That bastard broke my leg on purpose! He bumped into me like it was an accident, but who the hell breaks a leg just from that?!”
It did sound implausible. An A-rank Esper breaking a leg just from a bump? But no matter how nasty Delroz’s personality was, he had no reason to intentionally injure a much younger kid.
Maybe it really was an accident. Delroz was terrible at controlling his strength, after all.
“Come on. He had no reason to hurt you.”
“It was all to get to you, Instructor. I knew it from the moment he glared at me in that tent!”
Keslan’s face flushed red with fury. Banteon tried to calm him down.
“He lashed out back then because he couldn’t stand seeing two guys together. Someone like him, who’s all about women, wouldn’t be targeting me.”
It wasn’t like it was just one or two people, either. Ever since Delroz had joined the Center, rumors flew about him switching partners almost daily.
“But still…!”
“If it weren’t for the compatibility score, we wouldn’t even be in contact.”
Banteon’s firm response made Keslan look up, staring straight at him with those clear brown eyes. He seemed to be checking if Banteon really meant what he said.
“Then what about the commotion in the garden recently? That was weird… I’m pretty sure it had something to do with you.”
Banteon perked up at the unfamiliar news. It had been a while since he last set foot in the garden. Tearot, who usually passed along gossip now and then, wasn’t at the Center either.
‘Speaking of which, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Tearot. Three weeks today, actually.’
Right after returning to the Center, Tearot had volunteered for an urgent restoration mission in a village that had been attacked by monsters. He could’ve taken a break—he had just completed two long-term missions back-to-back because of Banteon—but he insisted on leaving again.
There had been times during missions when communication was briefly cut off, but this was the first time he’d gone completely silent—not even responding via terminal.
Tearot had always been annoyingly quick to contact him first. Banteon couldn’t help but wonder if something had happened.
Still, with the Center keeping quiet, it likely wasn’t anything serious. It was just a restoration mission, so there shouldn’t be any real danger…
“Instructor?”
“Hm?”
Lost in thought about Tearot, Banteon had forgotten to respond. He gave a reassuring smile to Keslan, whose eyes had gone wide with concern.
He’s probably dead or something similar 💀