“Block him, Rai!”

Jaehee ordered, trying to stop the clearly deranged Sa-yoon, but Sa-yoon immediately unleashed his frost energy to freeze Fenrir’s paws and block his approach. The white-furred Fenrir whimpered as he looked down at his frozen paws. Though it was a bark calling desperately for Sa-yoon, he responded by releasing even more intense frost energy to create an ice barrier.

“Don’t carelessly command Rai, Jaehee. What if I end up killing him?”

Despite muttering those words, Sa-yoon’s gaze remained fixed on Geon-joo. As if nothing else was visible to him, Sa-yoon stared only at Geon-joo while pushing away Jaehee’s arm and blocking Rai’s approach. Finally reaching Geon-joo, he spread his palm and struck Geon-joo’s cheek hard. Despite the wide area of contact, there was a thwack sound as Geon-joo’s head turned. Everyone in the room froze in shock, but Sa-yoon moved his hand once more to rest it on Geon-joo’s now-reddened cheek.

A louder sound rang out this time, and by the third slap, blood pooled at the corner of Geon-joo’s lips as if they had split. Sa-yoon silently raised his hand again. When the number of slaps reached five, Sa-yoon’s trembling fingertips raised once more before slowly dropping. Unlike his fingertips, his unwavering eyes stared directly at Geon-joo.

“…You said I abandoned you.”

The words came after a long silence filled with nothing but punishment-like violence. Sa-yoon grabbed Geon-joo’s collar and shoved him against the wall.

“Hey.”

“……”

“Did I abandon you?”

Sa-yoon was asking sincerely. Not once had he ever abandoned him. In their relationship, the one who was always abandoned was… Sa-yoon’s lips quivered as his eyes fell on the pair ring on the floor. Ha, he suppressed his miserable feelings.

It was always him who got abandoned. And yet.

“Did I abandon you, Geon-joo?”

At the third repeated question, Geon-joo turned his head that had been forcibly bent. His cheek was still swollen and red from Sa-yoon’s slaps. The moment their eyes met, Sa-yoon’s suppressed anger surged up, and he gripped Geon-joo’s collar like he was choking him, narrowing the distance between them.

“What, does it feel good?”

He spoke with a mocking tone of disbelief, and Geon-joo’s brow furrowed. Sa-yoon continued regardless, saying what he needed to say.

“Did you find someone new?”

“……”

“You leave like that, and what?”

Han Geon-joo gave no answer to the interrogating question. Just moments ago, he had spoken at such length, but now he didn’t even move his lips, as if he’d lost his voice. Communication was completely blocked. It was disheartening.

“Do you know how much I searched for you?”

Do you know how much my people worked just because of you?

At these additional words, Geon-joo’s eyes sank. Even that small reaction irritated Sa-yoon, whose temper flared as he pressed so close to Geon-joo that their breaths touched, gripping his neck.

“Who’s the one who threw someone away like an old shoe!”

His voice rose. Rai barked anxiously, and Jaehee approached Sa-yoon with a somber expression but said nothing. This was to honor his own advice that Sa-yoon and Geon-joo needed to resolve this themselves. Left without any interference to confront Geon-joo, Sa-yoon let out a bitter laugh when he saw his own hand trembling as it gripped Geon-joo’s neck.

“I suffered for a year and a half because of you, Geon-joo.”

“……”

“I lived like a pathetic fool for half a year because of you, and you say I abandoned you.”

Finally, his vision blurred. From disbelief and irritation. From exhaustion and defeat. Tired of engaging in another pointless argument so soon after Geon-joo’s return, Sa-yoon felt heat rushing to his eyes as he lowered his hand. Suddenly his palm throbbed. Despite Han Geon-joo being the one who was hit, his own hand ached. Even though it wasn’t powerful enough to harm an S-class body.

As Sa-yoon staggered back, Jaehee approached to support him.

“Are you okay?”

Sa-yoon couldn’t answer the concern. He wasn’t okay, but he wasn’t not okay either. He just felt empty.

It seemed he had damn well been expecting Geon-joo’s return. Despite all his anger and the pain, he thought that when they finally faced each other and talked, something would change.

He thought there would be a time when they would understand each other.

But understanding? They were just accumulating more misunderstandings.

As Sa-yoon reached the peak of his emptiness, feeling completely drained:

“…My thoughts haven’t changed.”

Han Geon-joo suddenly spoke. Jaehee and Sa-yoon’s gazes simultaneously fixed on the man leaning against the wall, wiping blood from his split lip. Han Geon-joo stared directly at Sa-yoon as he wiped the blood.

“If I hadn’t run away back then, it would have been worse than this, not better. You would have continued to just hide things, and I would have grown tired trying to dig them out. It’s obvious we would have kept stumbling along like that, so why stay? If I had stayed, it would have only had negative effects on both the Guild Master and myself.”

Even after being slapped, he stubbornly said everything he wanted to say. Sa-yoon realized that Geon-joo was elaborating on the reason for running away—something he had been so curious about—and maintained his silence. Despite having rebuttals and feeling irritation rising, he first wanted to hear everything Geon-joo had to say.

“You needed time to understand me when I wasn’t by your side, and I needed time to learn about you and to trust you. Isn’t that right?”

“…I could have understood you while keeping you close, why go to such extremes?”

“Would that be understanding? That’s just misunderstanding.”

Geon-joo sighed deeply as he spoke, straightening his hair that had become disheveled from Sa-yoon’s slaps. Sa-yoon could see various thoughts emanating from those delicate fingertips. He briefly reflected on the situation between himself and Geon-joo back then. They had been at a standoff then, just as they were now.

It was a standoff between Han Geon-joo’s disappointment in Sa-yoon for killing Noah, and Sa-yoon’s unwillingness to properly explain himself.

Certainly, Sa-yoon had not wanted to say anything to Han Geon-joo at that time, and Han Geon-joo showed no signs of giving up his position on Noah’s death. Only at the valley did he realize that this wasn’t just about Noah’s death, but a demonstration to learn about his personal circumstances.

Regardless, the standoff situation remained unchanged from now. And, as Geon-joo said, maintaining such a precarious relationship wouldn’t necessarily improve anything.

One of them had to change.

Either he would make up his mind to tell his secrets, or Geon-joo would figure out his circumstances.

One of these had to happen, and what was absolutely necessary for that was…

‘So try to understand.’

Understanding.

Sa-yoon was the type to reveal his secrets only after understanding Han Geon-joo in his own way and judging that he could completely trust him, and Han Geon-joo also needed to understand him to notice his circumstances.

Ah.

He finally grasped the concept of understanding and equality that had been following him like a tail for months, irritatingly persistent. Sa-yoon, though reluctant to admit it, realized that Geon-joo had his own logic.

However.

“Why did you have to do it that way?”

Even if Han Geon-joo hadn’t run away, or especially if he hadn’t run away when Sa-yoon was in the middle of a quest with a rank-down penalty, they could have somehow tried to understand each other. But Han Geon-joo chose the most extreme method. Sa-yoon still couldn’t understand that, nor could he accept or forgive it, so he frowned, causing Geon-joo to sigh.

Who has the right to sigh here?

As Sa-yoon flared up again and tried to lunge forward, this time Jaehee held him back. His attitude was firm, as if deciding that the previous leniency was a one-time thing.

“Now is not the time for violence.”

Jaehee spoke in a calm voice, trying to placate Sa-yoon. So it was okay earlier? Sa-yoon looked back at him, dumbfounded, but had to forcibly redirect his attention to Geon-joo’s continued words.

“I told you. That I found a clue.”

“What?”

“It had to be then. That was my opportunity, and simultaneously yours. Even if it was a bit hasty, that was the optimal timing.”

“What are you talking about?”

In response to the question, Geon-joo glanced at Jaehee. As if reluctant to speak in his presence. Sa-yoon caught this and snorted.

What was he trying to hide in front of someone who could read fate?

“Just ignore him and speak.”

His lowered voice was almost threatening. He intended to get an answer even if he had to beat it out of him again. When he showed this resolve by clenching his fist again, Geon-joo let out a sigh-mixed groan before speaking.

“A quest appeared.”

“…What?”

“I’ll explain the details later. I think I’ve correctly guessed what kind of quest it is. So, I thought I could learn about you by completing that quest, so I went and cleared it. Of course, I planned to tell the Guild Master after I finished it all…”

The man trailed off, biting his split lip, then glanced at Jaehee.

“I thought something would change after I learned about you and you understood me, but I never expected it to change like this.”

It was the same tone as before, deeply tinged with emptiness. Especially the look in his eyes as he gazed at Jaehee—it couldn’t possibly contain more mixed emotions, and Sa-yoon was taken aback.

It seemed he was making another absurdly ridiculous misunderstanding. Like asking if he’d been abandoned earlier, or asking if he’d found someone new. It appeared that he was misunderstanding the relationship between Sa-yoon and Jaehee, and just as Sa-yoon opened his mouth to correct him—

“Ah, shit.”

Rarely, a curse was heard.

Since Han Geon-joo rarely uttered such honest profanity, Sa-yoon was surprised and eventually widened his eyes when he saw Geon-joo’s face. Not simply because he cursed, but because moisture had pooled in his eyes.

“Couldn’t you have just asked what I was doing? Then I would have told you properly.”

Then I would have just given in and told you.

The man muttered as he wiped his eyes. Sa-yoon just blinked as he looked at the man whose eyelashes were clearly wet. His mind had gone completely blank, and no thoughts came to him. Han Geon-joo’s shoulders shook slightly, and his nose turned completely red as he covered his eyes.

“Just, first. Ask me first.”

“……”

“You’re the older one, after all.”

“……”

“Then just…”

The man turned his head sharply, muttered “Then just… get over it…” and after holding his breath tightly, finally burst into tears. Sa-yoon froze in place, and Jaehee sighed, patting Geon-joo’s shoulder as he asked why Sa-yoon didn’t ask what he had been doing. Judging by his comforting expression, he seemed to have seen something again.

As Sa-yoon watched this scene in disbelief, Jaehee smiled thinly and communicated something with his lips.

Indulge your younger boyfriend when he’s being childish.

At the clear lip movements, Sa-yoon closed his mouth.

Who’s whose boyfriend?

While he was dumbfounded, Rai joined the others in comforting the crying Geon-joo. Even though it was clearly his guild and his room, watching Rai and Jaehee comfort the crying Geon-joo made him feel like he was in someone else’s territory. It was a completely unexpected situation. Never having imagined that Han Geon-joo would cry, Sa-yoon stared at Geon-joo as he sniffled.

Fucking hell, really.

That kid.

It seemed unlikely they could continue the conversation. Only when Han Geon-joo stopped crying could he ask what had happened to him, where he had stayed for a year, and how he got caught up in the gate incident last time.

Thinking calmly now, there was quite a lot he had missed.

The result came from pushing only their most sensitive emotions against each other, and Sa-yoon frowned as he wiped his face with his dry hands.

To be on the same level as Han Geon-joo. He didn’t know who the child was supposed to be.

In the end, with complicated feelings, Sa-yoon called Rai and handed him a potion. To help reduce the swelling on his cheeks from the severe slaps. Rai wagged his tail and faithfully delivered the potion to Geon-joo.

Woof!

Fenrir barked.

It was a complete mess.