Something cool brushed against his forehead. Ryu Seo-ha forced open his heavy eyelids. Through his feverish, hazy vision, a familiar silhouette wavered.

“Did you… come back…?”

His voice, uttered in fragments, cracked terribly like a drought-stricken field. With a faint sigh, a pleasant touch caressed his cheek. He unconsciously pressed his cheek closer, seeking the cool temperature.

He heard another sigh, and vaguely felt the bed he was lying on tilt to one side, along with the scent of cold air. Choi Gang-hu, who had perched on the edge of the mattress, suddenly bent over.

“Mmm, no…”

Even in his dazed state, Ryu Seo-ha turned his face away to avoid the kiss at the strange presence. A low clicking of the tongue tickled his stuffy ears.

“They say a cold gets better if you pass it on to someone else.”

The voice murmuring as he stroked the hair damp with cold sweat resonated lower than usual. The man’s expression, briefly glimpsed through blurry vision, was seriously hardened.

“It’s not… a cold…”

How could it be a cold when the entire tower, indeed the whole island, was under strict control of temperature regulation items? After shaking his head, Ryu Seo-ha’s arm wobbled as he tried to prop himself up on the bed sheet. His body, which had been groaning in bed for over half a day, had no strength at all.

“Then, is it because of stress?”

Choi Gang-hu, who had caught his body swaying like a leaf falling from a tree, muttered lowly as if lamenting. It was highly likely to be psychogenic fever, as he said. But he couldn’t admit it right away.

“I just fell asleep… I’ll be fine if I heal myself.”

He tried to bluff by activating [Sanctification] as if it were no big deal, but the activation was canceled when he failed to maintain mana while designating the target for the trait’s application, as if making a futile gesture.

“You don’t need to push yourself.”

As he tried again, Choi Gang-hu gently laid his limp body back down and dissuaded him from activating the trait. Then he pulled out a small glass bottle from [Subspace]. It was a healing potion item.

“……”

Ryu Seo-ha bit his dry lips tightly. Not only had he suddenly fallen ill alone, which was already a bother, but now he, a healer, had created a situation where he needed to drink a potion. He couldn’t bear how pathetic he felt.

As if noticing that subtle mood, Choi Gang-hu hesitated as he was opening the bottle cap. Feeling that he had worried his lover who had returned after a busy day, his heart grew heavier.

“I’ll drink it myself.”

Choi Gang-hu, who had been closely observing Ryu Seo-ha’s expression as he reached out with a bitter smile, put the potion back into [Subspace]. Then he lightly kissed the eyelids of his young lover, who was looking puzzled.

“Would you try activating the trait once more?”

He quietly requested as he caressed the flushed, hot cheeks. Blinking at the sudden words, Ryu Seo-ha obediently moved his mana without asking why. [Sanctification] enveloped his body.

But this time too, his concentration quickly bottomed out. Just as his mana, unable to designate a target, was about to scatter vainly, Choi Gang-hu’s mana very naturally mixed with his.

He felt a force that caught the inevitably scattering mana in place of the caster. Ryu Seo-ha’s listless eyes trembled finely. Pressing his lips together, he roused his fading will.

Buff ‘Healing Regeneration’ is applied to the designated target (caster himself).

His body, which had been losing vitality as chills and high fever repeated, freshened up.

“How…”

Ryu Seo-ha, who had slowly raised his upper body to sit leaning against the bed’s headboard, expressed his belated question. Choi Gang-hu lightly lifted his body and held him in his arms as if trapping him. It was a posture as familiar as the cool scent.

“Because our mana is compatible with each other.”

He suddenly recalled the scene where Choi Gang-hu had wrapped his hand in mana and broken through the barrier of [Sanctification]. In a similar context, it seemed he could maintain the ability even if he couldn’t cast it.

“…Thank you.”

Wondering if this too was a result of neutralization, Ryu Seo-ha gently lowered his eyes and expressed his gratitude. His body had quickly recovered, but his heart still felt like it was simmering.

Is it really okay to keep living like this, just receiving help? They say relationships that are too one-sided are hard to maintain for long. He never thought that a life of doing nothing would be this burdensome.

“Why that expression?”

Choi Gang-hu, who had been staring down at his young lover’s face with his head tilted, asked softly as he stroked his sweat-damp hair.

“Just, I’m sorry.”

Ryu Seo-ha smiled faintly and answered honestly, gently rubbing his cheek against that hand. He couldn’t reveal everything for fear of worrying him, but just keeping his true feelings completely hidden would also be deception.

“For what?”

“I’m always just receiving.”

“Why feel sorry about such things between lovers?”

“It feels too unfair.”

Although it was ridiculous to argue about fairness in matters of the heart, he couldn’t help but think that way because the magnitude of help given and received was too skewed to one side.

“I’ve received more.”

Choi Gang-hu countered the words he had uttered while lowering his head as if they were absurd. Objectively speaking, the beneficiary was clearly evident to anyone.

“Were you sick all day today?”

As he was just fidgeting with his fingers without answering, Choi Gang-hu asked while covering the back of his hand. He seemed to be trying to change the subject before he sank deeper into unnecessary depression. Ryu Seo-ha shook his head.

“The fever started just a few hours ago.”

“Then what did you do all day?”

“Just…”

“Just?”

“Watched TV, read books, ate delicious things, spent the time enjoyably.”

Choi Gang-hu, who had been staring at his lover who was smiling gently while nicely packaging the boring time, took something out of [Subspace] and spread it on the table. It was an old paper with cute handwriting on it.

“Oh? This is…”

Ryu Seo-ha’s sunken eyes lit up. He immediately recognized it as a book report he had submitted as elementary school homework during his happiest childhood years.

“Taepyeong Elementary School, Class 2-1…”

As he murmured while wistfully touching the edge of the paper now bearing traces of time, lips lightly descended on Ryu Seo-ha’s cheek as he slightly chewed his lips.

“Where did you get this?”

Though he asked out of curiosity, Choi Gang-hu just smiled while adjusting his hold on him, without giving a clear answer. It wasn’t that he had no idea. When investigating after their first meeting, his subordinates probably gathered all related materials.

Being a private elementary school, it would have been relatively easy to trace. But however Choi Gang-hu had found this paper, it didn’t dim his joy at seeing it. He felt as if the emotion he had felt rereading “The Little Prince” back then was vividly revived.

He could fully sympathize with the Little Prince’s heart as he sobbed upon hearing that the thorns the flower had grown to protect itself were useless. In the end, he had cried at the kindness of the pilot who comforted him by saying he would draw a muzzle, a fence to prevent the sheep from eating the flower. If only the two friends didn’t have to part forever…

“It was quite a mature book report for a nine-year-old.”

Then hearing Choi Gang-hu’s voice tinged with laughter made him a bit embarrassed. It was content he had written, intoxicated by youthful sensibility, during a time when he was fully enjoying his parents’ understanding and love. He was just grateful to his lover for bringing material to reminisce about memories for his recently dispirited self.

“…The handwriting is very neat too.”

Long fingers caressed the letters engraved on the old paper with almost poignant gentleness. Seeing Ryu Seo-ha tilt his head at the subtle nuance and meet his eyes, Choi Gang-hu attempted a surprise peck on his lips.

“I missed you a lot.”

His gaze looking at his young lover, who was startled and vigorously rubbing his lips with his sleeve, took on an even deeper color.

“…Me too.”

Ryu Seo-ha, who had hesitated at the out-of-context confession, soon readily agreed with those words.

“Are you confident you can always stay right by my side from now on?”

The man who had kissed his crown a couple times as if finding that sight lovely, quietly asked back. Though it was another sudden question, Ryu Seo-ha obediently nodded.

“Yes, of course.”

“Even if you leave here?”

But he couldn’t help but abruptly stop at the unexpected question. Let me out? From here? His eyes slowly widened.

“Why so suddenly…”

“It seems the glass cover installed to protect the flower needs an air hole.”

It was an unexpected answer.

“Rather than letting my flower wither, I was thinking it might be better to draw a stake to tie the sheep to.”

The whispering voice clutched his heart tightly.

“…You don’t have to do that.”

But Ryu Seo-ha quietly shook his head. He didn’t want to make his precious lover feel anxious because of him.

“Why? You want to go out.”

He wasn’t uncomfortable or stifled from not being able to go outside. Even the sense of deprivation of feeling like he had become a useless existence in an instant could be quickly shaken off once he got used to this life.

“I don’t want to create things for Choi Gang-hu to needlessly worry about.”

Once was enough for causing problems by meddling despite being exposed to kidnapping attempts. Choi Gang-hu, who had been staring at him, stood up.

“There’s something I want to show you.”

Then, with a slight dizziness, the scenery changed. A stench assaulted his nose. It was a terrible smell of filth mixed with the smell of blood.