12. The Day the Moon Collapsed
The relentless fever that had plagued Seo-yul finally subsided a week after he returned to the mansion. As if trying to make up for the month they had been apart, he hardly left the bedroom, staying with Seo-yul the entire time.
Even after the fever had broken, Seo-yul remained in bed for three more days, growing increasingly restless. Sensing this, he suggested they go for a walk in the garden modeled after District 5. Seo-yul accepted the proposal without hesitation.
“Hold my arm.”
Just before stepping outside, he extended his arm toward Seo-yul. Seo-yul stared at it for a moment before abruptly turning his head forward and stepping outside first.
Having spent an entire week confined to bed, Seo-yul’s steps were unsteady, to say the least. Stubborn as ever, he refused to take his arm, determined to walk on his own. But in the end, he staggered clumsily and fell to the ground.
“Seo-yul hyung, are you okay?”
“I’m fine—”
“Let me see.”
He quickly rushed to Seo-yul’s side, checking for any injuries. Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be anything serious, though Seo-yul kept avoiding his gaze.
When he moved to the right, Seo-yul turned left. When he moved left, Seo-yul dropped his head downward. As he continued to follow his movements, his eyes finally caught sight of Seo-yul’s ears—flushed red.
Only then did he realize—Seo-yul was embarrassed. Not wanting to fluster him further, he stopped his persistent gaze. He carefully grabbed Seo-yul’s arm and helped him up, and this time, Seo-yul willingly held onto him.
Leaning against him, Seo-yul made his way to the garden, stepping onto the soft grass and walking at a slow pace. Before long, exhaustion took over, and he sat down beneath a tree. Still, just being outside the bedroom after so long seemed to lighten his mood.
“You’re not overexerting yourself, are you?”
“I’m fine, this much is nothing.”
Though he said so, his body told a different story—sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead. Carefully, he reached out, intending to wipe it away.
Startled by the sudden touch, Seo-yul flinched and tried to evade his hand, but after a moment, he calmed down and tilted his head slightly—allowing him to wipe the sweat more easily.
If it wasn’t just his imagination, Seo-yul seemed to have opened up to him, even if only a little, after what had happened last time. Of course, things could never be as they once were, but even the smallest crack in the walls Seo-yul had built around himself was significant.
Suppressing the rush of emotions swelling in his chest, he wiped the last of the sweat from Seo-yul’s forehead and pulled his hand away. He wanted to linger, to touch him a little longer, but if he overstepped, Seo-yul might pull away again.
“Seo-yul hyung.”
“What?”
“Just felt like calling you.”
Lowering himself slightly, he carefully leaned his head against Seo-yul’s shoulder. He didn’t press his full weight, mindful not to burden him, but even the faintest contact was enough.
The quiet garden held only the two of them. With all the guards dismissed, no foreign presence disturbed their perfect solitude.
If only time could stop here forever. Or, if that wasn’t possible, then let this space exist solely for Seo-yul and me. A place where anyone else who dared enter would be consumed by flames, leaving only the two of us behind. Of course, then as now, it was merely my own fantasy—one I could never share with Seo-yul.
“Vin.”
Drowsily closing his eyes, he snapped back to full alertness the moment Seo-yul called his name. Lifting his head from where it had been resting, he turned to face him. If he wasn’t mistaken, Seo-yul had just—
“Vin.”
“…Yes, Seo-yul hyung.”
His voice wavered strangely as he swallowed down a rising lump in his throat. Seo-yul calling him by that name—the name he had longed to hear—was so unbearably sweet. He wanted to smother him in kisses right then and there.
But unlike his own surging emotions, Seo-yul remained calm. Don’t rush. Slowly, even if it takes time—he repeated those words to himself, forcing himself to settle.
“Can you answer me honestly from now on?”
“About what?”
“Promise me first.”
Seo-yul extended his pinky finger. His mood lifting, Vin hooked his own pinky around it without a second thought, locking them together tightly.
“I promise. Ask me anything—”
“Is Se-yul alive?”
Seo-yul’s question cut him off mid-sentence. It was only after the words left his mouth that Vin realized the promise he had made so carelessly had been a trap. But the pinky promise remained intact.
“You said anything,” Seo-yul pressed when Vin hesitated.
Seo-yul had always believed in keeping promises made with a pinky swear. Yet too many promises had been broken already.
Vin had always intended to tell Seo-yul the truth about Han Se-yul someday—but not now. Not until Seo-yul could look at him, only at him.
After all, Seo-yul would never leave this place for the rest of his life.
“You swore to tell me only the truth. You promised. Vin, please, just tell me. Is Se-yul alive?”
But Seo-yul was more desperate than Vin had anticipated. Holding onto their intertwined pinkies as if clinging to life itself, he began to cry, begging for the truth.
Tears rolled down his pale cheeks, falling in silent drops. Watching them fall, Vin finally parted his lips. He was just about to confess everything—
Rustle.
The sound of footsteps crushing the grass.
In an instant, Vin tore his hand away, stepping in front of Seo-yul to shield him completely from the approaching figure.
The person who met Vin’s sharp, wary gaze was one of the aides working under the master of the district. He was also the one tasked with calling for Vin for the past week.
“Young master Vincent, today, you must go.”
Recognizing the man, Vin relaxed his guard. Seo-yul, who had been momentarily frightened by the sudden presence of a stranger, also calmed down upon seeing the familiar aide.
“Vincent-nim.”
Hands clasped tightly in urgency, the aide urged him once more. Realizing that he could delay no longer, Vin quietly rose to his feet. Aware of the situation, a servant rushed over from a distance, and Vin entrusted Seo-yul to him.
“W-where are you going?”
As he was about to follow the aide, Seo-yul grabbed him, his voice urgent. The last incident had left a deep trauma—Seo-yul was terrified whenever Vin left his side.
Facing those frightened eyes, Vin bent down and pressed a kiss to Seo-yul’s forehead. He patted his trembling shoulders gently, waiting for him to calm before speaking in a soothing voice.
“I’ll be back soon. It won’t take long.”
“Really?”
“Yes, so go inside and rest.”
Only after reassuring Seo-yul did Vin hurry after the aide, who had already moved ahead. Though the bruises had long since faded, the thought of meeting the district master made one side of his face throb as if the pain had never left.
Crossing the lobby and passing through unnecessarily wide corridors, he arrived at the office of the district master. The guards standing watch at the door bowed deeply as he approached.
“Young master Vincent has arrived.”
At the aide’s announcement, permission was granted from beyond the door. The aide carefully opened it and stepped aside, signaling for Vin to enter alone.
The moment he set foot inside, a heavy ceramic pot flew past him, missing him by a hair’s breadth.
Crash!
Glass shattered loudly, yet Vin remained unfazed. His first action was to close the door behind him. Without turning his head, he cast his eyes to the side, confirming the fate of the pot that had been hurled precisely at his face.
“When did I give you permission to move at your leisure?”
The district master’s voice was ragged with anger. Straightening his posture, Vin met the rare sight of a man openly displaying his emotions. Then, as if to make a point, he clasped his hands behind his back and stood rigidly upright.
“Do you know how many times I’ve summoned you?”
“You have called me a total of fourteen times.”
“And what exactly have you been doing all this time?”
“I have been tending to someone.”
At Vin’s infuriatingly calm reply, the man reached blindly across his desk, grabbing a solid wooden pen holder. This time, Vin did not evade the attack. The weighty object struck him directly in the forehead before falling to the ground.
A sharp corner had torn through his skin, and blood trickled down his face. His vision turned red as the blood seeped into his eye, but he remained motionless—until the command was rescinded, he could not move.
“The District Selection is in a week,” the master said, breathing heavily. “But at this rate, I have no idea what choice I should make.”
“My apologies.”
Vin was still the strongest candidate to be the next district master. However, rumors that he was hiding an omega in the mansion had spread, stirring opposition.
It wasn’t just the elders—more troubling were the common district citizens. Already incited, they had gathered in protest before the mansion, demanding that someone else be chosen as the next leader.
The district was already fractured, nearly split in two because of Night. In such a precarious situation, appointing someone who had lost the people’s trust would only accelerate its collapse.
The district master was erratic and capricious, but he was still the ruler of District 1. He couldn’t afford to ignore the consequences of his decisions.
“Vincent.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Do you remember the promise we made?”
Back when Vin first returned to District 1, before he could even go searching for Seo-yul, the master had confined him. Then he had made an offer—if Vin could surpass all other members of the Shining family and become the next district master, he would grant him whatever he wished.
From that moment on, Vin had believed in that promise. Naively, he had abandoned his own humanity, doing whatever was asked of him—all for the sake of seeing Seo-yul again, to ensure that he would never lose him again.
“Yes, I remember.”
“Then I’ll speak plainly.”
The master of District 1 smiled. A smile that, to outsiders, would seem dazzlingly beautiful—but Vin knew better. This was the expression he wore whenever he was scheming something.
“If you fail to become the next district master, I will exile your omega.”
