Stepping back a pace, Delroz strode up beside him. In the dim room, his golden eyes gleamed. He stared intently at Banteon’s face, meeting his gaze before raising the corners of his firm mouth.
“Seems like you had a good time while I was gone. Must’ve been so enjoyable that even the solitary confinement cells heard about it.”
It was obvious what rumors Delroz had caught wind of—probably that Banteon and Keslan were going on a date today. The mole had reacted to the trap meant only for appearances. Banteon briefly wondered how Delroz, stuck in solitary, had heard. The answer came easily.
Even if hard to understand, there were still people at the Center who followed him. Idiotic admirers who fawned over him just because he was SS-Rank, and then there was Petern, who had entered the Center alongside him. There were plenty who could’ve passed along news of Banteon to someone in isolation.
Regardless of who told him, Delroz had clearly flown into a rage upon hearing that his temporary Guide was going on a date, and now he was throwing a fit in the middle of the night.
Banteon brushed aside the bangs that had fallen across his forehead.
“Yeah. It was fun. Just until now.”
“You don’t even bother denying it.”
He scoffed at that remark. It wasn’t as though he’d done anything wrong, so there was no reason to tread carefully. Two adults spending time together wasn’t a crime. Most importantly, there was nothing to hide from a temporary Esper who had clearly forgotten his place.
“Not like there’s anything to hide.”
At that, Delroz let out a low, feral growl.
“You must’ve completely forgotten what I told you. I warned you not to meet with other Espers.”
“Shouldn’t you be the one remembering? I clearly turned down your offer.”
Hadn’t he even gone down to solitary to kindly explain that Delroz wasn’t his type and that he should give up?
The red aura swirling around Delroz crackled ominously.
The thick air of jealousy and possessiveness around him was unmistakable. After he got out of solitary, Banteon had prescribed medication and sent it to him. He couldn’t confirm if Delroz had taken it, but judging by his current state, it probably went straight into the trash.
That pathetic bastard seriously needed treatment. Banteon could send the meds, but he had no way of forcing him to take them. Sighing at how much more sensitive Delroz seemed compared to before, he muttered inwardly.
“That brat must fit your picky tastes perfectly, huh?”
“Not something I need to explain to you.”
Banteon was already planning to cut things off with Keslan soon, but there was no need to inform Delroz of that. He deflected the question and folded his arms.
“I’m saying this seriously—if you keep acting like this, you’ll regret it later.”
He might even want to break through a wall out of shame someday. Most people who recovered from Guide Awareness Syndrome reacted that way—deep embarrassment over their former obsession with their Guide. Many tried to hide that past.
It wasn’t like some cutesy scene of a young, immature Esper cringing at their former self. Just the thought of a bear-sized SS-Rank acting bashful was nauseating.
Despite Banteon’s warning, Delroz let out a low snort. From the moment he’d shown up, his gaze had been oddly subdued, fixed solely on Banteon.
“I don’t care about anyone else, but not that brat.”
The conversation kept going in circles. What about Keslan was so irritating to Delroz? It clearly went beyond disliking someone hanging around Banteon.
“It’s not something you should be concerned about.”
“Why are you even spending time with that snake? He’s got no ability to speak of and he’s vicious and sly.”
Delroz’s lips twisted into a crooked grin.
“His greed’s practically oozing out of him.”
Even if Keslan wasn’t quite what he seemed, Banteon knew he didn’t have the kind of character that deserved this kind of slander from Delroz.
“Whatever Keslan’s real personality is, it’s still better than yours, so I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“No need to spell it out. I already know.”
Delroz’s brow furrowed deeply as he replied.
“Whoever you bring, you’ll say they’re better than me. Because they’re not savage or grotesquely huge.”
His unusually self-deprecating tone made Banteon raise an eyebrow. He’d never called Delroz grotesque.
“Don’t take it so personally. I have a firm type. It hasn’t changed in a long time, and I’ve never felt the need to change it. Just giving you a heads-up—it’ll stay that way.”
“How considerate. Thanks for the warning.”
The bitterness in his voice only added to Banteon’s headache. With an exasperated wave of the hand, he replied like it was a chore.
“……Even if you didn’t say anything, I wasn’t going to see him again.”
“Yeah?”
“I was going to cut things off anyway. So don’t worry about it.”
Delroz’s voice brightened noticeably as he slowly stepped forward. The shift in emotion was so blatant, it was almost embarrassing. As he drew closer, the distance between them shrank until Delroz’s face was nearly touching Banteon’s. Startled by the sudden proximity, Banteon instinctively leaned back, only for a strong arm to yank both sides of his robe.
Without realizing, Delroz had gripped the front of Banteon’s robe and pulled it closed. The force was strong enough to jostle Banteon’s upper body. The robe was fastened tight—tight enough that his collarbones were completely hidden, the fabric wrapped snugly all the way up to his neck. Satisfied, Delroz’s lips curved into a pleased smirk.
“Wear it properly. You’re heating me up again.”
His fingers lightly stroked the now-secure collar. In contrast to his fierce expression, the gesture was as delicate as if he were handling something precious.
At that, Banteon pressed a hand to his forehead. The sheer absurdity of how dramatically Delroz changed just from hearing that he wouldn’t meet Keslan anymore—he was seriously beyond help.
“Get proper treatment, Delroz. It’s the best thing—for both of us.”
At the pitifully spoken words, Delroz replied quietly.
“So you really believe I’m sick.”
“Yeah.”
“Is that all you want from me?”
“Right. I just want you to get better and go back to how you were.”
Honestly, he was better off when he was just an annoying, nerve-grating bastard. Who would’ve thought he could get worse than the version Banteon had already deemed the worst? It was almost impressive.
If he dared to hope for more, he wished Delroz would find another Guide and just leave—but that wasn’t something he could say out loud right now.
At Banteon’s firm reply, Delroz turned his gaze to the window for a moment.
“If I get treatment, what will you do for me?”
“Why would I owe you anything?”
“You do.”
Barging into someone’s room uninvited and still daring to ask for a favor. When Banteon shot the question back at him, Delroz gave a bitter smile, the corners of his mouth drooping with weariness.
“I’ll quietly go back to solitary. I promise not to cause any trouble until treatment is done—just the way you want.”
“That’s something you should be doing anyway.”
“You of all people should know that what’s normal for you isn’t normal for me. I’m fine staying just the way I am.”
Following the Center’s rules. Not showing up uninvited in the middle of the night. Delroz never grasped such basic courtesies from the beginning. It wasn’t surprising, remembering the village they passed through when stranded together.
It had been a place where survival didn’t allow for politeness or dignity.
As someone who’d lived as a commoner, and an SS-Rank Esper who never had to answer to anyone, Delroz had never needed brakes to begin with.
“I’ll swear to complete the prescribed treatment no matter how long it takes. But in return, you need to promise me just one thing.”
“Let’s hear it first.”
“Next time something happens—anything that puts you in danger or if you need help—call me.”
The mention of danger made Banteon grimace.
“Don’t call one of those other Espers dying to get in your good graces. Call me. Even if it’s temporary, I’m your Esper.”
“……”
The silence stretched, and a deep furrow formed between Delroz’s brows.
“Is it too much to ask for… even that?”
His voice sounded unexpectedly bitter—so unlike him, it made Banteon pause.
Delroz’s point was dead-on. If something dangerous happened to Banteon, or he needed help, he wouldn’t call Delroz. He’d probably reach out to Tearot or someone else. Delroz would be the last person he’d think of.
He closed his mouth, knowing the accusation wasn’t wrong.
And truthfully, it wasn’t even a difficult request. There was no need to reject someone simply asking to be useful. It was just laughable that a man who had escaped solitary confinement was asking for something so trivial. Turning his head, Banteon looked at the wall. The clock had already ticked well past midnight.
Outside, alarms were blaring, buzzing ceaselessly. The patrol guards were moving frantically, drenched in nervous sweat from this unexpected manhunt. All because of Delroz’s whim. People were getting dragged through the mud because of him. Banteon let out a deep sigh.
“Stop dragging other people into your mess.”
“……”
“Fine. Whenever it happens—if I do need help—then I’ll call you.”
Delroz’s eyes softened, the flame in his gaze finally dimming. With the answer he wanted, he turned around without another word.
“In return, promise you’ll go through with the treatment for the full prescribed time—peacefully.”
“I’ll definitely keep that promise.”
As he stepped toward the window, his broad back paused, then he turned slightly to look back. With his expression veiled by the backlight, he stared quietly at Banteon.
“If it gets out that I came to see you tonight… will that be a problem?”
The question caught Banteon off guard, and he tilted his head. It was hard to believe such words were coming from Delroz, of all people—someone who lived like he feared nothing in the world.
If he was worried about causing problems, he should’ve thought of that before breaking out of solitary. Now? It was far too late for that.
What an utterly ridiculous question.
He’s at least considering change and practicing restraint.