“So, I’m thinking I need to put you to sleep for a bit and meet him.”

“…What?”

Han Geon-joo’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as he asked. Sa-yoon glanced at Geon-joo’s hair, which was still dripping wet despite the fact that he’d been back from the bathroom for three hours and had spent that time talking with Lee Jae-hee. Was he living in there? Sa-yoon snatched the towel Geon-joo was holding.

Tal-tal-tal.

He wrapped the dry towel around Geon-joo’s head and rubbed it roughly, sending water droplets flying and soaking the towel. Geon-joo tilted his head slightly with the motion, his expression relaxing so minutely that only a very keen observer would have noticed. Occasionally, he scowled as water splashed him, which was quite a sight to behold.

“Did you make a new faucet in there? What were you doing that your hair’s still wet?”

“…Don’t change the subject. What did you just say?”

He had been docile while getting his hair dried, but his voice was sharp. Sa-yoon stopped rubbing and pressed down on both sides of the towel, forcing Geon-joo’s head down slightly. Geon-joo complied with the pressure. Only when their eyes were roughly level did Sa-yoon smile, satisfied.

“I said let’s put you to sleep and bring that bastard out.”

“Why.”

“I need to have a talk with him.”

“What kind of talk?”

His snapping retorts were sullen enough to put a rebellious teenager to shame. The corners of his frowning eyes trembled slightly. He really hates it. Soothingly, Sa-yoon brushed under his eyes with his thumb, finished drying his hair with one hand, and sat him down in front of the mirror. When Sa-yoon pulled out the hairdryer, Geon-joo lowered his head obediently, naturally assuming Sa-yoon would dry it for him. It would be a lie to say Sa-yoon didn’t feel a sense of fulfillment from that docility.

It really is strange.

When he first brought Han Geon-joo here, he never expected there would come a day when he would find a sense of stability from him. Even less so, a day when he could feel fulfilled just by someone’s presence.

Geon-joo was the one who had achieved all of that, so why was he the one constantly anxious?

Did I give him reason to be?

Looking back, there was nothing. He hadn’t done anything confusing.

Then the only things left were Han Geon-joo’s emotional instability and the problems of the current situation.

The problem was that Geon-joo couldn’t feel safe or stable himself. Sa-yoon racked his brain for a solution.

“We can’t keep living with him forever. You know how to use divine power now, so shouldn’t we wrap this up?”

“It sounds like you’re planning to completely end the will of my past life left in the divine power. Is that just my imagination?”

“No. I intend to end it.”

There was no reason to hide it, so he nodded. Han Geon-joo’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Why are you surprised?”

“…Honestly, I thought you would have lingering feelings.”

“…Lingering feelings?”

Me? Meeeee?

It was so absurd he repeated himself internally. Fuck, I don’t even have my full memories from my past life, so why would I have lingering feelings for that bastard? He was just an entity entangled with his past life, an entity to help understand the current situation, an entity to give a glimpse of what Han Geon-joo was like in his past life.

Nothing more, nothing less. Frowning, Sa-yoon turned on the hairdryer and pointed it at Geon-joo’s face. As the hot air blasted him, Geon-joo closed his eyes.

“Lingering feelings my ass. What lingering feelings would I have for him?”

“Then why do you want to see him again?”

“To put a period on it. A period. Did you listen to what I said earlier with one ear and let it out the other?”

Kong. He lightly tapped Geon-joo’s head with the hairdryer. Thwack. Geon-joo clutched his head, trembling slightly.

Han Geon-joo, seriously. Once he gets stuck on something, he won’t focus on anything else even if he dies.

Sa-yoon had clearly said that his past self seemed to have vague lingering regrets about life, so he wanted to meet him to resolve them and untangle the threads. It was obvious Geon-joo had completely ignored that part. When Sa-yoon glared at him through the mirror, Geon-joo let out a low groan and released his head.

“It’s a relief if you don’t have feelings… but the problem is I can’t fully use my power yet. I need his help to use it comfortably.”

“You rely on what’s comfortable, that’s why your growth is slow, you brat.”

“Why are you scolding me all of a sudden?”

“It’s not scolding, it’s affectionate advice, pretty boy. I’m going to call him out and send him to the afterlife, so try to handle that power on your own. From what I see, you’ll manage it soon.”

After learning how to use the power from his past life’s will, he had succeeded in fighting without turning into a snake on his first try. So Sa-yoon was confident he could do it without the will’s help in the next dungeon. Sa-yoon only had such thoughts when they were truly possible, so he straightened his shoulders confidently. Geon-joo, meeting his eyes through the mirror, sighed loudly, Eh-hyu, clearly meant to be heard. Sa-yoon almost hit him with the hairdryer again but held back.

“I hate you meeting him.”

“I know. But you can’t always do only what you want in life. Sometimes you do things you hate. From now on, I’ll let you live doing only what you want.”

“…That’s a very romantic line, but the situation sucks so it’s not fluttering at all. How can I step aside knowing he might do something to you?”

“You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, hyung, it’s that I don’t trust my past self. That bastard is a snake, I tell you.”

Is this a self-diss or talking behind someone’s back?

Caught in a very ambiguous dilemma, Sa-yoon soothed Geon-joo, saying that even if he did something strange, he would avoid it himself, so not to worry. Of course, it wouldn’t be Han Geon-joo if he backed down immediately saying, “Okay, I won’t worry.”

“Even if he pretends to be dead?”

“Hey, I have to check that at least. What if he’s really dead?”

“If he’s really dying, he’ll crawl out somehow just before he dies, so approach him only when you confirm it’s me. Keep at least ten meters distance when talking to him. Don’t be swayed by whatever he says, don’t worry about my body, and if he tries anything, hit him first. Even if I hurt later, it’s more relieving if you draw the line like that.”

Oh?

He thought Geon-joo would stubbornly refuse, crying over his dead body, but surprisingly, the conversation was flowing toward consent. Surprised, Sa-yoon stopped drying Geon-joo’s hair and touched the nape of his neck. He could feel the heat still radiating from his body.

“The fever still hasn’t gone down.”

“It’s not a penalty that disappears quickly.”

“When I call that bastard out, I’ll ask about the penalty too, so endure it a bit.”

Testing the waters gently toward calling him out, Han Geon-joo let out a deep breath. Knowing that sigh, mixed with resignation, meant consent, Sa-yoon smirked and put down the hairdryer.

“Seriously, don’t allow anything. Don’t let him touch you, don’t touch him.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Answer me properly. If you answer like that, how can I trust you and step aside?”

“I said I won’t.”

He nailed it down firmly as Geon-joo wished, but Geon-joo still looked anxious. Sa-yoon pondered for a moment, then effortlessly lifted Geon-joo from the chair.

“What the…!”

Suddenly grabbed by the shoulders and lifted over Sa-yoon’s head, Geon-joo was flustered. Seeing him tense up and shrink back, Sa-yoon walked to the bed like an old merchant carrying a rice cake basket on his head and set him down.

Reaching out to touch the bewildered cheek, he felt the high fever. Thinking it might help cool him down, he released a weak aura of frost, and Geon-joo rubbed his cheek against the cool hand.

“What are you so anxious about? You said he is you and you are him anyway.”

“You were the one who said past life and present life are different.”

“Let’s look at the fundamental aspect. Whatever happens, it’s ultimately done with you, so don’t feel bad about past events. And if you’re still bothered by that bastard trying something…”

Stopping mid-sentence, Sa-yoon climbed on top of Geon-joo.

“Hyung?”

Leaving the questioning call behind, he grabbed Geon-joo’s arms and pulled them above his head. Geon-joo’s dark eyes trembled.

“What are you…”

Han Geon-joo, hands captured, struggled. Just as Sa-yoon pinned both wrists with one hand and reached out with the other…

“L-Later!”

“…Hm?”

“Let’s do it later, later! …Honestly, if we do it now, I don’t think I can hold back much in the future, and that might interfere with our work. So anything more than kissing, just, later…”

“What kind of bullshit is that?”

Seeing him squeeze his eyes shut and list his intentions regarding unasked-for skinship, Sa-yoon tilted his head.

“Huh?”

At the bewildered retort, Geon-joo opened his eyes. Sa-yoon tied Geon-joo’s hands with a binding rope he took from his inventory, then looped the remaining length around the bedpost. As Geon-joo blinked silently until it was firmly secured, Sa-yoon helped him understand the situation.

“If you’re anxious that bastard might come out and do something, I just need to tie you up and put you to sleep. This way you’ll be less anxious, and if that bastard has a conscience he won’t untie the rope, so isn’t this a pretty decent safety device?”

Ting.

Flicking the obviously tight rope once, Sa-yoon spoke. Han Geon-joo looked at the brown rope above his head once, then at Sa-yoon’s utterly emotionless black eyes once, and then pulled his hands.

Ping!

But alas, the taut rope did not allow his hands to cover his face. Thanks to that, exposing his reddened face completely, he moved his lips.

“What, again.”

Sa-yoon graciously gave the floor to the face overflowing with things to say. Yet Geon-joo, unable to speak easily, turned his head and buried his face in the blanket, sighing.

“…They say doing it without realizing is the scariest.”

“…?”

“You’re really too much, hyung too…”

At the sudden rebuke, Sa-yoon was the only one feeling wronged.