“I saw that bastard die with my own eyes. What kind of bullshit is this about him being alive?”

Deren.

How could he forget that name?

Sa-yoon often forgot people’s names, but that one he remembered clearly. How could he not? The bastard was the leader of Scorpion.

He had faced him directly, fought him, won, and taken his head. Mille’s words now fanned the flames of a memory that had been slowly rekindling with the recent resurgence of Scorpion’s remnants. Sa-yoon glared at Mille, the ignited memories flashing vividly in his mind. The man’s frightened face and desperate eyes didn’t seem to be lying.

“I-it’s true. That’s what they told me…”

“They?”

As Sa-yoon repeated his words, Mille slapped a hand over his mouth as if he’d misspoken. His eyes went wide.

“P-pretend you didn’t hear that…”

“You think I will?”

Sa-yoon’s voice had become noticeably deeper than a moment ago. Realizing this, Mille began to nervously pick at a hangnail, sneaking glances at Sa-yoon. Eventually, his gaze shifted to Geon-joo.

Han Geon-joo met the green eyes that were staring at him as if pleading for help and gave a slight bow.

“Hello.”

Mille, flustered by the sudden greeting that seemed completely out of place, bowed his head in return. Just then, a buzzer vibrated. Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Mille quickly tried to get up from his seat, but Sa-yoon grabbed his arm.

“You go get it.”

The low, simmering voice, on the verge of exploding, was directed at Geon-joo. After a moment of hesitation while checking Sa-yoon’s expression, Geon-joo took the vibrating pager and stood up. Sa-yoon’s gaze briefly followed the back of Geon-joo, who knew how to listen at moments like this, before roughly grabbing Mille’s wrist.

“Ugh!”

Mille whimpered in pain, but Sa-yoon’s grip was relentless. He tore back the fur coat and pushed up the long sleeve covering his wrist, revealing a thin, white wrist that looked like it could snap at any moment. Sa-yoon’s fingers traced over a small scar and a part of the wrist that protruded unnaturally from under the skin.

“Ha, fuck.”

As the curse escaped, Mille flinched, as if aware of his wrongdoing.

No. This isn’t your fault.

This is something you can’t be blamed for.

Clarifying the cause and effect, Sa-yoon squeezed Mille’s wrist and closed his eyes. His head throbbed. He let out a pained groan, and just then, the screech of a chair being pulled out came from beside him. A cold hand touched his forehead. It was damp, as if from fetching the coffee.

“Are you in pain?”

The low voice awakened his senses. Sa-yoon took a deep breath, and with an expression that held a million words, he lifted his eyelids to look at Mille before letting go of his wrist.

“Is it a chip?”

“Chip?” Geon-joo showed interest in Sa-yoon’s question. As his gaze also turned to Mille, the timid man pulled his sleeve down as if to hide his wrist and nodded.

“Did those bastards find you again?”

Mille nodded again.

“They told you Deren was alive, and they took you back with them?”

This time, the question was laced with a faint cynicism. Mille, likely sensing this, shrank back and nodded. Sa-yoon tried to hold back a curse. No, he tried, but his lips moved of their own accord, spewing a string of harsh profanities.

“What’s going on?”

The one who had been itching to ask, unable to follow the flow of conversation, finally voiced his curiosity. It was a question aimed at understanding the situation, but Sa-yoon couldn’t easily answer. The answer, surprisingly, came from Mille.

“…It was my fault.”

“What was your fault? You haven’t done anything wrong except be fucking stupid.”

It was a statement that was hard to classify as either a defense or a condemnation. Geon-joo watched Sa-yoon carefully, noting that he was more foul-mouthed and less composed than usual. Ignoring his gaze, Sa-yoon, who was still staring intently at Mille, downed about half of the Americano Geon-joo had brought and then spoke.

“Mille joined the remnants of Scorpion. Probably as a slave.”

His voice was laced with annoyance, making no effort to hide his displeasure.

“Scorpion takes slaves?”

“To be precise, they treat them like slaves. Those bastards are vicious, they’ve been doing it for a long time. I just didn’t know they were still up to their old bullshit, or that you…”

Sa-yoon trailed off, swallowing hard and biting his lip as if to suppress his anger.

“Or that you would fall for such a lie and join them.”

At a point where disappointment and regret converged, Sa-yoon spoke his mind. Mille raised his voice, sounding wronged.

“I-it’s not a lie.”

“I killed that bastard myself. You saw it, and you still don’t get it?”

“But, he really acted like he was alive. They all did. Everyone used to be scared of you, but now they’re not. They’re so much more arrogant than before, it really felt like Deren was alive.”

“You should have at least confirmed it with your own eyes before making a judgment.”

“With what power?”

“…What?”

“I’m a D-rank, and they’re at least B-rank Hunters. What was I supposed to do? You know I didn’t really have a choice. I was just powerless, so I went with the flow. There was nothing I could choose. Because now, by my side…”

“……”

“…you’re not there anymore.”

Mille, who had been muttering self-deprecatingly, wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and added grimly. This too was unexpected. As Sa-yoon remained silent, at a loss for words, Mille filled the gap.

“You didn’t come to see me once in three years. Before, you used to at least send someone once a year.”

“……”

“Everyone said you abandoned me. Because I was useless. Everyone. With no guarantee you would ever come find me again, how could I resist Scorpion? I have no power. You, you know what it’s like, you were weak like me once. So why are you talking to me like that…”

Mille, who had been speaking sorrowfully, flinched and quickly shook his head.

“Not that I’m blaming you.”

It was not an appropriate thing to say after speaking as if he were blaming him for everything. Sa-yoon still couldn’t say anything, and Mille, perhaps uncomfortable with the silence, fiddled with his nails before letting out a pained sound. He grimaced in discomfort, touched his wrist, and then glanced nervously at Sa-yoon.

Screech.

A moment later, Mille pushed back his chair and stood up.

“I, I got a summons. I have to go now.”

For such a dramatic reunion, it was a ridiculously bland farewell. Mille glanced at Geon-joo and spoke with a gloomy expression.

“You, you seem to have found someone much more helpful.”

His voice sounded envious, perhaps even a little jealous. But in the end, the man gave a pure smile and left with one last remark.

“You look better than before. I’m glad.”

This time, there was no emotion other than joy. He was so transparent, so innocent. Sa-yoon stared irritably at the man who was glad he looked better, even though his own situation was worse than it had been three years ago. He took out Mille’s wallet, which he had taken, and his own, which he had recovered. He then pulled out a few bank notes and stuffed them into Mille’s wallet.

“Take this. The only reason you’d be pickpocketing without even checking your target is because they demanded tribute money, right? Take this so you don’t get involved with the wrong people, and come back to this café tomorrow at 3 PM. We’ll talk then.”

“…Huh?”

“Do you not understand me? I said let’s talk again tomorrow. I’ll take care of that damn chip on your wrist, too. For today, if you take that money, at least you won’t get beaten up.”

As he spoke, he stuffed another note in. Mille blinked and took the old wallet. He checked the clock on the café wall, then smiled brightly, just as he had a moment ago.

“See you tomorrow.”

His farewell trembled slightly. Clutching the wallet, which was the same one he’d had seven years ago, as if it were a precious treasure, Mille left the café. Ting-a-ling. The bell on the door chimed once. Sa-yoon watched his retreating back and sighed.

Pathetic, shabby, and a total pain in the ass.

Mille was the very picture of a boy who had crawled out of the gutter.

As the image of him lingered and he fiddled with his coffee cup, Geon-joo, who had been quietly sipping his coffee, sensing the unusual atmosphere, finally spoke up.

“You’re being unusually emotional today.”

“…Do I seem that way?”

“What’s your relationship?”

He knew he would ask. After witnessing the melodramatic scene,¹ anyone who didn’t say anything would be an idiot. Sa-yoon let out a hollow laugh and stared for a long time at the spot where Mille had left before giving a late reply.

“…I don’t know.”

“The relationship seemed quite deep to be defined by such words.”

“That’s why I said I don’t know.”

“……?”

At Sa-yoon’s cryptic answer, Geon-joo turned his body to face him. He prompted him silently. Feeling the implicit urging from his gaze, Sa-yoon fiddled with the wallet he had taken out before scowling.

“It’s a shabby relationship.”

“…Were you lovers?”

“What kind of nonsense is that? Why would I have romantic feelings for that little kid?”

Reacting as if he had just heard the most ridiculous thing, Sa-yoon picked up his wallet and stood up.

“I think we got the information we needed, so we can head back now. Let’s go.”

“You’re not going to answer me?”

The eyes looking up at him from the chair were gentle. They were similar to Mille’s, yet they held a strength that Mille lacked.

And secrets, too.

‘You look better.’

Sa-yoon recalled Mille’s quiet assessment and then extended a hand to Geon-joo. It was an invitation to take his hand and stand up.

“I’ll tell you when we get back.”

“…Alright.”

Even though he was postponing the answer, Han Geon-joo took Sa-yoon’s hand without another word.

“Tell me when we get back,” he added, as if to make sure. Thanks to his obedient and quiet attitude, on the way back to the hotel, Sa-yoon was able to recall a memory he had kept hazily buried.

The memory of the six months he and Mille were held captive by Scorpion.

It was when they were very young.