Swish—
Adrian’s long, outstretched index finger moved slowly across Mikhail’s bare back. Like a musician playing a beautiful melody, his finger traced precise lines, and as it did, the once-blocked mana began to flow. Elements that had refused to mix before now twisted together, gradually merging into a unified current.
This was how it was supposed to work. Once Mikhail became accustomed to channeling mana throughout his entire body, he’d naturally become more adept at coating his sword with energy.
“How is it?”
Of course, one session wouldn’t magically fix everything, but the improvement in Mikhail’s previously wrecked condition was visible to the eye. Adrian narrowed his gaze, infusing mana into his irises, and studied him carefully. Only after a thorough inspection did he finally nod in quiet approval.
Then, in a low voice, he offered advice—advice essential for someone aspiring to become a Sword Master.
“Mikhail, can you feel it? You need to maintain this state.”
“……”
But no matter how long he waited, there was no reply from Mikhail, who lay face-down on the bed.
“Are you even listening? Did you fall asleep already?”
Tap tap—Adrian bent down to check on him.
There’s no way anyone could fall asleep like this.
Mikhail was sweating cold bullets, clearly distressed. Dragons, it seemed, had no real interest in human reactions, so there was little point in explaining. Biting his lower lip like he was holding something back, Mikhail finally replied in a reluctant, hushed voice.
“…Got it.”
His voice was little more than a murmur. Adrian’s palm was still resting directly against Mikhail’s bare skin. It was cool to the touch, yet mana continued to spread outward in warm, soothing waves from that point of contact.
Mikhail had volunteered for the frontlines immediately after graduating from Basamiel three years ago. After parting with his first love, Adrian, there had never been another who caught his eye—not even a prince. The absence of emotional space played a role in that, too.
…He hadn’t regained that space, and yet, why the hell was this happening now?
His heart, which had felt dormant for so long, suddenly pounded in his chest like a war drum. To a dragon’s ears, that sound must’ve been deafening.
Damn it.
Burying his face in the mattress, Mikhail tried to hide the expression of despair creeping across his face.
Contrary to his belief that his feelings had long since vanished, the moment they reunited, emotions began to rise—slowly but surely—breaking the surface of his heart. As if begging to be recognized, those feelings beat louder, faster.
It was a good thing he was lying face-down. Mikhail cleared his throat—ahem—trying to steady his voice and pretend like nothing was wrong.
Both of his bare shoulders had turned red with heat, the blush spreading outwards in a visible flush.
Adrian raised an eyebrow at Mikhail’s lukewarm reaction. He hadn’t expected much in return, but the kid’s response was more half-hearted than anticipated.
“That’s it?”
At that, Mikhail lifted his head just slightly, only to meet Adrian’s dissatisfied expression.
Just like that, it felt like they were back at Basamiel, sharing the same dorm room again. It really was the same… or maybe it had never changed. Chuckling softly to himself, Mikhail gazed at Adrian, who wore his signature surly face, and offered a faint smile. Then he remembered something.
“…Thanks.”
Still lying down, Mikhail lifted his arm. Instantly, Adrian’s hand—still resting on his back—was caught. The palm that had just been touching his skin was strangely warm. Mikhail gently rubbed his thumb over it.
“For worrying about me. And… for coming here first. I appreciate it.”
“……”
I never said I was worried about you.
Adrian was about to say something, still looking down at Mikhail who held his hand—when suddenly, Mikhail bit his lip again. Slowly, he brought that soft hand to his lips.
Smack.
The soft sound of lips brushing the back of Adrian’s hand echoed quietly through the tent. At the same time, Adrian’s brow furrowed sharply. What the hell was that? A baffled sound slipped naturally from between his lips.
“…Huh?”
Adrian’s cold voice caused Mikhail’s closed eyelids to flutter open. Slowly moving his gaze upward, he found Adrian’s face—expressionless as ever—looming large in his field of vision. The dragon was staring blankly down at the back of his own hand. Mikhail slowly sat up and released Adrian’s hand.
“Why? Is there a problem?”
He decided to play it shamelessly. Based on everything he’d learned from watching Adrian over the years, acting as if nothing were amiss was far better than showing any sign of embarrassment.
And he was right.
At Mikhail’s puzzled expression, Adrian tilted his head slightly to the side.
Was this… a common human custom? Kissing the back of someone’s hand? Judging by that reaction—like he was the one being strange for questioning it—it probably was. Just a gesture of gratitude, then. Human customs and fashions changed far too quickly for a dragon to keep up. It was always a source of confusion.
“…No, nothing.”
Adrian frowned slightly for a moment, then shrugged it off. It wasn’t a big deal.
“It’s fine.”
Mikhail smirked faintly. He could pretty much guess what kind of thoughts were running through Adrian’s head right now.
Probably assuming it was just some newfangled way of saying thanks.
But in truth, what Mikhail had done went well beyond a simple thank-you. This was someone who detested physical contact with others. No matter how grateful he felt, Mikhail had never initiated a kiss—not even once. It was far too soon to expect Adrian to pick up on something like that.
Still.
Wearing a genial smile, Mikhail straightened his upper body from the bed. He was better at dealing with people now, more confident than he used to be. He was no longer at the age where he just waited quietly for someone he liked.
Adrian’s eyes, which had been staring quietly at the floor, now followed Mikhail’s movements.
“Then…”
Mikhail lowered his lashes, speaking with a wistful air.
“Are you going back?”
“Yeah. I’ve finished what I came to do.”
Adrian replied without hesitation, his gaze steady on him. Mikhail returned the look.
“By ‘what you came to do,’ you mean fixing the flow of mana in my body like just now?”
“That’s right.”
A firm, unambiguous answer.
But despite the clarity of the reply, there was a strange dissonance. Something didn’t quite add up. Adrian himself might not have noticed, but—if he’d been his usual dragon self, he wouldn’t have cared whether Mikhail was struggling or not. He wouldn’t have come here at all. Yet here he was, showing up with nothing more than Kyle’s word to go on. Something had changed in Adrian’s behavior.
Propping his chin on one hand while seated at the edge of the bed, Mikhail asked:
“You’re curious, aren’t you?”
Adrian’s sharp gaze flicked his way. It was the kind of glare that said, Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?
Back when he was younger, that look might’ve hurt him. But Mikhail wasn’t that boy anymore.
“After saying all that in front of you that day… I’m still stuck like this. So yeah, I bet you’re wondering if I’ll ever become a real Sword Master. In that case, stick around. See for yourself.”
“……”
Huh. Look at this kid.
It was a pretty bold remark, considering who it was directed at. One of Adrian’s brows arched slightly. Mikhail, like a merchant selling a premium item, subtly nudged him toward a decision.
“It won’t take long. And besides, you’ve got all the time in the world, don’t you?”
“……”
“Don’t worry. I’m not asking you to help me.”
Absolutely not.
Mikhail’s steady gaze reached Adrian’s face. That much, Adrian already knew—Mikhail wasn’t the type to ask for something like that.
Then why?
Adrian’s lips parted slightly, then closed again. But no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t figure out why Mikhail was acting this way.
Eventually, in a low voice, Adrian asked:
“Why? You think it’s better if I’m here watching you?”
Even if I don’t lift a finger?
It was the kind of question that could’ve easily been brushed aside. Even as he asked it, Adrian hadn’t really expected an answer.
At least, not until Mikhail gave one.
“Yeah.”
No embellishment. No qualifiers. Just a clean, precise answer.
At that, Adrian’s golden eyes—so disinterested a moment ago—widened noticeably.
“When you’re watching me… I feel like…”
Mikhail locked eyes with him and finished the thought.
“I feel like I can do anything.”
No matter what it is.
His voice was sweet, a delicate blend of vague hope and longing.
