Sayoung withdrew his hand from Uijae's prominent shoulder blades and back muscles, lightly tapping the arms wrapped around him. Uijae slowly loosened his embrace. Sayoung picked up the mask that had fallen on the floor and handed it over.

“Sorry for dropping it, hyung.”

“It’s fine. It was made by a madman, so I’m sure it’s sturdy.”

Uijae dusted off the mask. The face that had almost seemed on the verge of tears was now calm, regaining its usual cold expression. Maybe I should have looked longer. Sayoung ignored the surge of regret and watched as Uijae’s red-rimmed eyes disappeared …