Why hadn’t he realized it, even while watching from up close?
Not that it was anything to brag about, but Banteon had never exactly been an ideal partner who kept his gaze solely on his lover. He had always pursued light, fleeting relationships—easy to start, easy to end—and if someone new happened to suit his taste, he made sure to keep an eye on them.
Now, though, things were different. He’d made up his mind to settle down. Even if an Esper that matched his type showed up, he wouldn’t waver. He wouldn’t be casting his gaze around anymore, not even to size someone up. And yet the fact that he hadn’t even noticed an Esper who fit his type—it felt like he’d been smacked over the head.
When Delroz had grabbed the hand of someone Banteon would typically be drawn to, Banteon had just assumed it was a simple act of jealousy over another Esper. He hadn’t thought much of it.
Every time, he had worried that Delroz’s feelings for him ran too deep. Delroz was always sensitive to Banteon’s every move, his mood changing in an instant with a single word. He’d often wondered how he was supposed to soothe such a volatile partner and keep him close. But he hadn’t been in any position to worry about someone else.
“Delroz. I think I’m in serious trouble.”
He smiled as he looked at Delroz’s confused face. To be so taken by this giant that he couldn’t even see anyone else—Delroz wasn’t the only one completely captivated. Banteon was just as tangled in it, with no way out.
“You’re gonna have to take full responsibility now.”
“That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear.”
Delroz answered without hesitation, but his expression remained full of suspicion. It was clear he was questioning whether he should be agreeing so easily to something without knowing the full story. Banteon met that wary gaze with a playful grin.
“You’re just gonna take responsibility no matter what, even without knowing the reason?”
“Do I need to know the reason? I feel like the outcome would be the same either way.”
“I could commit a crime. I might betray you.”
“And that wouldn’t matter to me in the slightest.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Delroz nodded. Just like his answer, no matter what Banteon might do from here on out, Delroz would stay by his side to the end. Even if Banteon stabbed him in the back with his own hand, Delroz would probably smile and forgive him.
Banteon tugged on Delroz’s hand. A part of him wanted to pull him into a tight hug for saying something so endearing, but their unexpected conversation had already eaten up too much time. Instead of a hug, he stroked Delroz’s hand with his fingers. All he could think about now was wrapping up this formal matching contract and heading home.
Following the guide’s directions, they reached the end of a hallway and arrived at a room tucked far away. It was completely silent, with not even a single secretary waiting nearby. Wondering why they had been summoned to such an isolated place, Banteon opened the door.
The wooden door, creaking as if it hadn’t been used in a long time, gave way to reveal the Center Director waiting inside.
“Thank you both for coming all the way here.”
A contract, already prepared, was spread out on the desk. Following the kingdom’s standard format, Banteon flipped through it, gave it a quick review, and stamped the final page. Unlike Banteon, who only needed a glance since he had the contract memorized, Delroz didn’t even pretend to look it over.
He sat down, signed it immediately, and tossed the contract toward the Center Director. Before Banteon could say anything about the rude gesture, the Center Director, unfazed, took the paper and neatly filed it away. Delroz only made the effort to be polite to Banteon. Or at least tried to pretend he was.
With everyone else, he acted like they didn’t exist—or like just now, did whatever he pleased. At first, Banteon had found that blatant rudeness off-putting enough to want nothing to do with him. But finding out Delroz hadn’t even been born human made it somewhat understandable—though still hard to get used to.
Of course, if Banteon were to speak up about this, Delroz would likely start behaving more properly around others. Even if awkwardly, like someone stiff in unfamiliar clothes, he’d at least try to mimic the proper manners. In the past, Banteon would’ve wanted that from him. But not anymore.
He now disliked the idea of Delroz trying to adjust for others more than the discomfort those others might feel.
Banteon handed over his own completed paperwork to the Center Director.
“With this, your contract has been finalized. I’ll act as the official witness. You may make changes only within the next seven days from the date of signing.”
“Thank you for your effort.”
It was a simple process. Reading through the document and stamping it took less than five minutes. Once it was over, a hollow feeling spread through Banteon’s fingertips. When he turned to look, Delroz’s eyes mirrored the same emotion.
He had never expected to share a look like that with someone else—never imagined they’d smile together, united by the same thoughts.
It had only been a year since he met Delroz. Not even a full cycle of seasons had passed, and yet they’d experienced more events in that time than he could recount in hours of storytelling. So many things that defied belief.
For once, lost in rare emotional reflection, Banteon found that the absurdly short process of signing the matching contract felt like the conclusion to all they had been through. As if everything that had happened—all the chaos, all the drama—had led to this moment.
Maybe all those events where it felt like fate had forcibly grabbed his hand… maybe they were just to bring him here. And if someone were to ask Banteon now whether he was dissatisfied with the path that had been forced upon him…
He reached out and brushed his fingers lightly against Delroz’s thick hand beside his own. The golden eyes trembled slightly as they turned to meet his. Within that rich, honey-colored gaze, Banteon found a small sliver of happiness.
He didn’t know what lay ahead, but one thing was certain—he was content in this moment, walking forward together.
“Well then, I’ll be taking my leav—”
“Pardon me, Banteon-nim.”
He was just starting to rise when he was stopped. The Center Director called out to him in an uncharacteristically urgent tone—something Banteon had never seen from him before. The room, tucked away in the far corner, was noticeably dimmer than elsewhere. Not so dark as to be unable to read, but nothing like the sunlit main hall of the center.
That dimness had delayed the realization.
The Director’s face, which at first had seemed no different than usual, now looked disturbingly gaunt. The eyes that always held some sly calculation were now dark, unreadable depths as they stared straight at Banteon.
“…Is something the matter?”
As Banteon sat back down, his shoulders were rigid with tension. Delroz, noticing it immediately, reached out and gently grasped his wrist. Banteon glanced sideways at him, and his expression gradually softened.
“You’ve probably already sensed it,” the Center Director began, his tone unusually candid compared to his usual guarded demeanor. He leaned forward as he spoke. “There’s something this old man dearly wishes to hear. That’s why I guided you all the way to this remote place.”
“What did the two of you see at the ruins in the desert?”
“I have no idea what you’re asking. Everything I know, I already wrote in the report and submitted it.”
After regaining consciousness, Banteon had been questioned over several days by both the kingdom and the Center. Though it had been called an “investigation,” it was more of a polite visit under the guise of checking in. The real purpose was to coordinate how the matter of Banteon’s abduction and Rohan’s identity would be disclosed. The reports were tailored accordingly.
There wasn’t much Banteon could openly say about the incident. He couldn’t include things like how Rohan had been the first known Esper to be declared dead, or how his Guide was buried within the desert ruins.
The official report stated that Rohan was an unregistered Esper active around the desert region—a rebel harboring treasonous intentions against the kingdom. All the more complex and difficult actions were blamed on supposed followers acting under his influence, a fabricated narrative.
Anyone who knew even a little about Rohan’s behavior would realize there were lies mixed in. But there was no one who could demand the truth from Banteon or Delroz. The Center Director was no exception.
Even if he asked, Banteon had no intention of answering honestly. The Director surely knew that as well, which made it difficult to guess why he was asking so directly. Surely he wasn’t naïve enough to believe that pulling Banteon into a secluded room would make him confess the truth.
“…I see. It seems I phrased the question poorly.”
The Director furrowed his brows and fell silent for a moment, then continued with clear fatigue in his voice.
“Then, could I hear your answer to the question I asked before?”
“……”
At that, Banteon’s breath caught. When he finally exhaled, it came out in a subtle tremble.
Since meeting Delroz, Banteon had often found himself alone in conversation with the Center Director. They’d exchanged countless words—so many questions had been posed that they all blurred together.
But hearing that question now brought back a single, distinct memory. A phrase that had helped Banteon most in uncovering the truth about Rohan. Words that struck straight at the heart of the matter.
“Can Espers truly be considered human?”
Banteon already knew the answer. He bit his lip lightly to keep his expression neutral. This wasn’t a question meant to find the answer. The moment the Director had asked it, he had already known. That beings like Rohan and Delroz—spontaneously occurring Espers—weren’t human.
The Director was asking Banteon a question for which he already held the answer. If he so desired, he could easily announce to the kingdom that Espers were not human. At first, many would likely dismiss the claim as madness, but someone like him probably already had the evidence to convince the public.
Even knowing this wasn’t something that could be resolved just by shutting his eyes and denying it, Banteon still couldn’t bring himself to speak.
