TWLPOD 28

Having returned from his mission, Kay entered the barracks, clenching the constantly loosening bandages with his teeth.

As he went through the area where he had to first scan his bracelet and then undergo a biometric scan, a notification popped up.

[NOTICE: A package is being held for you at the lounge administration office.]

A package? For me?

Suspecting that something had been delivered by mistake, he scanned his bracelet at the administration office inside the lounge, and an item with ‘Kei’ written as the recipient’s name was handed to him. The sender was Aran.

[Please sign for receipt.]

Unable to shake his doubts, he signed for it and took the item. In the elevator, he held the palm-sized package and gave it a light shake, but no sound came out, as if the contents were firmly secured inside. He entered his quarters, guessing at what might be inside, and was greeted by a pair of dirtied combat boots.

“Welcome back. Did you miss me?”

He held up the package to Aran, who was approaching while taking off his gloves.

“What’s this?”

“A gift.”

“What kind of gift?”

“I told you I’d choose whatever I wanted until this month.”

“This month? …Ah.”

Only then did he realize that the box he’d been given was the ‘price of the bet.’ The word on the package was clearly ‘gift,’ but the reason he suspected a hidden motive was probably because the giver was Aran.

As he opened the box, not knowing what might pop out, the name written on the outside caught his eye. It was a trivial thing, and he briefly debated whether to say anything or not.

“About my name.”

“Hm? Yeah.”

“It’s a y. Not an i.”

Key, not Kei.

He had learned from reading books that even when using the same language, pronunciation and notation could be subtly different due to the long period of separation. He was simply pointing out a difference in notation, but Aran’s reaction was strange.

“Isn’t it usually an i? The spelling is weird.”

“From my perspective, you guys are weirder.”

Above all, El, who had given him the name, was from Lympus, so it was also strange for Aran to call it strange.

Kay, who was silently observing the puzzled Aran, noticed a subtle difference from his usual expression.

“Aran.”

“Yeah?”

He became certain as he watched the facial muscles move. The corners of Aran’s eyes were twitching minutely. The fact that Aran had only half-taken off his gloves when he entered the quarters also flashed through his mind.

“Take it off.”

“Suddenly?”

A look of bewilderment crossed Aran’s face, and Kay, not missing the opportunity, grabbed his hand.

“The glove. I said take it off.”

At the sudden demand, Aran’s smile twisted.

“Why?”

“Just take it off if I tell you to.”

“It’s troooublesome if you do this here.”

“Then be troubled by yourself forever.”

Seeing his reddened lips from holding back a curse, Aran intertwined their hands. The guy wouldn’t back down, even though he reacted just from a slight brush of fingertips across the space between his palm and wrist.

“How did you know?”

“Just. A feeling.”

It wasn’t like he was trying to hide it, and the desire to quickly seize the opportunity presented to him took precedence. When he pulled off the glove, a chill, like that from dry ice, flowed from the frozen hand.

“Are we close enough to know just by a feeling? Us.”

With his frozen, numb hand, Aran nonchalantly pulled Kay’s waist into an embrace.

“Can I touch you now?”

What is he talking about when he’s already touching me, Kay thought, recalling the moment he had shaken off his hand. He admitted it. He hadn’t been in his right mind then.

“You hold a grudge, you do.”

“It’s not a grudge, I was hurt.”

The words were so unfitting.

“I was worried.”

Should he apologize? Or should he snap back that it was an overstep?

His head chose the former, and his heart chose the latter. Whenever they were together, his shallow emotions and pride would rear their heads, and he would fall into a self-contradiction.

Unable to choose either, Kay could only use his fidgeting hands to hold onto the other man, who was glowing with a pure white light and crumbling away.

“Yes, this is nice.”

His ear tickled at the whisper from a distance so close their legs were now intertwined, but he couldn’t move. While Aran was defenseless, guiding himself, Kay’s nerves were on edge in his stead, and time passed just like that. Each moment was long, as if someone had deliberately stretched it.

During that time, the weight resting on his body became increasingly palpable, and even though he tried not to think about it, it was just like Simon, who had vanished from his arms like this.

“You… how do you endure it?”

Pop, the question slipped out.

“Endure what?”

“When someone you have a bond with dies.”

The heartbeat he could feel because they were touching. The words that connected because they were alive.

The contact with the person against him was pleasant, which made him sorrowful. The irony of feeling lonely because there was warmth.

“Well. I’ve never been sad about someone dying.”

The hand that slowly spread across his back was cold, yet the reason he couldn’t push it away was because this act of his, unlike his usual pranks, felt like it contained comfort. Don’t be sad. It seemed to be conveying that.

“It’s second nature for a soldier. Though as a human, I’m a defective product.”

“…Isn’t it the opposite?”

“The opposite?”

“It could be a flaw you have because you’re human, couldn’t it?”

Or maybe even this was just because he had never loved anyone. Or maybe, at the end of his military life, he had internalized loss before love.

But even so, in the end, the irony is that imperfection completes a human.

“Kay.”

A faint laugh lingered in his voice as he called his name.

“What.”

“…I won’t die.”

He had a thought that the reason his heart sank every time they talked was probably not just because he resembled El. He goes out to battle every day and comes back exhausted. Even though he should know better than anyone that no one wants to lose their life on the battlefield, Aran declares it with certainty.

“So you don’t die either.”

Everyone fights for something. They struggle for survival. In this era, we postpone death in a way that requires us to pay too great a price for the simple act of living and breathing.

“Because I think I like you.”

“…Why is that a guess?”

“Because I’ve never liked anyone before?”

“Your words and actions are different.”

The hand clutching his back grew progressively stronger, turning into pressure.

“Yeah. They are.”

“Don’t just answer, let go now.”

The ragged breaths had subsided and were now warm. When he released the strength from their intertwined fingers, Aran did not easily pull away. He lowered his gaze to him, and their eyes met.

“If you promise.”

“……”

“I knew it.”

He had belatedly closed his heart and pulled his body back, but just as he couldn’t block the force spreading from where they touched, his inner thoughts had already been read.

“You’re planning to die, aren’t you?”

Having confirmed it through the silence, Aran opened his mouth.

“After this war ends.”

He had lived his life priding himself on being pretty smart. On being quick-witted. On being confident in his survival, at least. He lamented the foolishness that made him so defenseless in front of this guy.

Desire makes humans live.

For Kay, life was a single wish, and if he could confirm that El was dead through Aran’s proof… that would be enough to bring this life to a close. Or so he had thought.

“Is there nothing else?”

Since when had this guy been able to read such thoughts?

“Something that would make you want to live, even after confirming that person’s death.”

“…There’s nothing.”

“What about the people who will be sad if you die?”

“They’ll understand.”

“Then what about me?”

A hand crept up, stroking Kay’s cheek before caressing the tip of his ear.

“I’ll be sad if you die, and I won’t be able to understand your death either.”

“I think you’re misunderstanding something, so let me make it clear. You are not one of my people.”

“So?”

“So your sadness is none of my business.”

He wanted to create distance, but his back was against the wall, and though he tried to avoid the hand, it followed him persistently.

The reverberation of the guiding transmitted from where they touched seeped through his defenses like words digging into his innermost thoughts.

“A lie.”

“It’s not a li—.”

Flinch. Kay unknowingly closed his eyes at the shiver that ran down his spine.

Ever since the war started in Lympus, there were even fewer usable guides in Willamere.

So Kay had always clung to even the faintest guides, ones who were difficult to even assign a rank to. It was no more than a person on the verge of dying from dehydration moistening their throat with just a few drops of water, but it was still the water of life, a fact that did not change.

And, like an animal of adaptation, as an esper, he had always lived in a state of thirst, a state of restraint.

“……”

Until that kiss from Aran.

“Open your mouth.”

Someone had once said that an esper’s unregulated wavelength resembles sexual frustration. Kay, who until now had thought, ‘Is it really that bad?’, refused the hand that had traced a tingling path over his skin and touched his lips, now trying to move to his mucous membrane.