“Come to think of it... your birthday. The enlistment records just say ‘late May.’ Did you leave out the exact date on purpose?”

Yuder recalled the day he went to submit his application for enlistment.

That’s when I met Kanna.

Back then, like the other applicants, Yuder had answered a few half-hearted questions from a low-ranking official. One of them had been about his birthday.

Yuder had given the same answer in both timelines: just “late May.” The reason was simple.

“No. I really don’t know the exact date. That’s why I answered that way.”

Among the poor, it wasn’t unusual for people to not even remember when their children were born. But Yuder’s case was slightly different.

“The grandfather who raised me wasn’t there when I was born. He was a relative who had been living elsewhere. After my parents died suddenly, he happened to receive word and took me in. So he never knew the actual date either.”

“...I see.”

Kishiar responded quietly. Yuder lifted and dropped his shoulders with a light shrug.

“It happened so early I don’t even remember it. Apparently, a monster appeared and devastated our village. Things like that still happen now and then. But... my grandfather must have had a hard time.”

Monsters tended to appear in specific regions. While no one knew exactly when they would emerge, humanity had long learned where they were more likely to. Settlements had been built in relatively safe areas.

But if knowing that guaranteed safety, monsters wouldn’t be mankind’s long-standing nemesis. They had no perfect patterns. Sometimes they appeared in places with no prior history, or behaved in completely different ways that required new responses—leading to massive casualties.

Those like Yuder who dealt with monsters regularly—or nobles—knew such incidents happened often. But to poorly educated commoners who had never left their hometown, the idea was terrifying. It led to widespread superstition.

Which meant that Yuder had grown up under conditions that made people prone to fearing him.

Yuder suspected that was why his grandfather had never fully settled in town, instead choosing to repair and live in one of the remote hunting cabins outside the village.

“Still, he was a capable hunter, woodsman, and gatherer. We never had much difficulty. The villagers were also fairly kind.”

His grandfather had traveled widely in his youth, working wherever he could. Despite being a commoner, he could read and write, and had skillful hands. He often helped others without asking for payment, so people would come from far away seeking his help.

“He must’ve been a good man. Now I see why my aide is so skilled at hunting and knows herbs and trees as well as the Empress herself.”

“I don’t think I’m worthy of such praise... But yes, he was a good man.”

Most of the life Yuder spent with his grandfather had faded into a haze, but a few memories remained etched deeply within him. As he silently sifted through those memories, Kishiar asked in a quiet voice,

“Did he ever tell you anything else about your parents?”

“No.”

“Were you never curious?”

“No. It happened before I could remember. What would be the point? My grandfather raised me well. I always thought that was enough.”

“And your birthday—was that the same?”

“...You could say that.”

Whenever late May came around, his grandfather would cook a slightly better, tastier meal. He carved him wooden toys by hand. That alone had been enough.

He’d sometimes wondered what the world below the mountain was like, but he’d never felt his life lacked anything. So he was fine.

Come to think of it... If I hadn’t joined the Cavalry, I probably would’ve just stayed in that mountain all my life.

If he hadn’t awakened as an Awakener during that restless age of curiosity—if he hadn’t started wondering whether anyone else possessed the same strange abilities—he never would’ve gone to the capital.

“Anyway, that’s why in the previous cycle, I just set my official birthday as May 25. I was told that saying ‘around the end of the month’ was too uncultured for a noble.”

“May 25, huh.”

“You don’t have to remember it.”

“How could I not? After receiving such a wonderful gift?”

As he said that, Kishiar tightened his grip on Yuder’s hand. His body leaned in closer, their warmth mingling. His lips, radiating more heat than even the magic stove, pressed against Yuder’s forehead.

“Thank you—for telling me, even the parts you probably didn’t want to.”

“You were the one who asked. I don’t mind. You can ask more, if you like.”

“No. This is enough for tonight.”

Once. Twice. Three times. His lips brushed from Yuder’s forehead to his hair, then to the edge of his ear.

“I’ve already received far too generous a gift.”

His Imperial Highness might be a bit jealous, but this—this was the best gift he’d ever received. That voice, murmuring low in his ear, made Yuder’s insides tremble with a chill. Only then did he realize Kishiar’s skin, which had been cold earlier, now radiated the same warmth as his lips.

With that realization, everything Yuder ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) had been too distracted to notice—everything outside the fact that it was Kishiar’s birthday—rushed in like a tidal wave.

Their bodies nearly overlapping. The warmth pooled between their interlaced fingers. The red eyes that glowed even in the flickering firelight. The scent wrapping around his entire body like an invisible hand.

That scent carried not only the happiness Kishiar felt, but something else—an inexplicable sorrow.

And beneath it all, a longing—deeper, darker, more urgent than usual.

He wanted him.

“......”

The moment he recognized that, something deep in his belly shivered. A hot sensation bloomed inside, like fire licking at the wick of his core.

Why didn’t I notice sooner?

A dangerous tension snapped tight between them as Yuder stared back into Kishiar’s eyes again. The man was smiling—slightly awkward, slightly guilty.

“...Ah. I’ve been caught.”

“...Since when have you been in that state?”

“To be honest, it wouldn’t be wrong to say I’m always like this. But if I had to be more precise—probably from the moment you looked too lovely to resist?”

When the hell was that supposed to be?

Even as Yuder tried to process the answer, Kishiar’s fingers continued moving—slipping through his hair, threading gently behind his ear, brushing against his cheek.

“...But don’t worry. I’ll be heading back now.”

“Your hands don’t seem to want to let go.”

“My apologies. They’re currently too enchanted by you to follow orders.”

Kishiar laughed softly and slowly drew his hands away. After a deep breath, he blinked his eyes open. The heat in them had cooled—just slightly.

“I have to head out early tomorrow. I shouldn’t let it go any further. Sleep well.”

As he began to rise, Yuder reached out and grabbed his hand. Kishiar turned to look at him. Yuder stared at his own reflection in the glass of the magic stove and, with a faint tremor in his throat, quietly spoke.

“I don’t like it.”

“...What?”

“It’s still far from morning. So...”

“......”

“...Stay. Just until the stove burns out and cools down.”

Kishiar’s hand flinched. He looked down, lips curling into a slow smile.

“...Will you be all right? You might be tired tomorrow.”

“So what?”

Yuder tightened his grip, making sure Kishiar couldn’t pull away. The man let himself be slowly drawn back in.

“You’re the one who lit the fire in me. I don’t want you leaving like this.”