When he hadn't wanted them, dreams had returned to him in the form of memories, with no explanation. But now, when he wanted them more than ever, the dreams no longer came. Perhaps he had dreamed, only to forget—but what good was that, if nothing remained in his mind?

It had already been quite some time since he’d returned to the past. Over a year had passed, and in that time, so much had changed. Everything from his previous life had become a mere illusion known only to Yuder himself. Inon had once asked if he felt lonely being the only one who remembered, but Yuder had felt the opposite—he’d welcomed it. After all, wasn’t this very present the result of his efforts not to repeat the past?

But there was one exception.

Kishiar la Orr.

Only his existence—his trace—stood apart.

Yuder wanted to reclaim the pieces that had vanished. The more he learned of the man he hadn’t known in his past life, the more he layered those new memories atop the old, the lighter he felt—and yet, the stronger that desire grew.

It wasn’t simply the result of some rational longing for truth. No, as he’d just confessed, it was the conclusion of a deep, obsessive greed directed at one person.

A man /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ who had seen the world with a warmth Yuder lacked... who had tried to care for and protect even the smallest things around him... who had dreamed, even while walking an unbearably painful path.

Yuder wanted to possess everything about that man in his own hands.

Even if what lay between them had only been pain—now, he wished to swallow even that pain whole.

Yuder thought to himself that perhaps he was, in truth, an incredibly greedy person. It wasn’t gold or jewels or fame he longed for like other people—but wasn’t he still wishing for something more precious than all of that?

And maybe... he had been this way all along, since before he even realized what greed was.

After pouring out every last thought within him, Yuder exhaled deeply, looking at the man before him.

“...Do you not find me strange, for thinking this way?”

Kishiar shook his head.

“I think we’ve had a similar conversation before, but my answer hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s the opposite.”

He was smiling, just as he had back when Yuder told him that his path was the right one.

“There’s nothing more joyful than hearing that you still want me—even after seeing what a mess I used to be. That I can still seem radiant to you... That’s the real miracle.”

“...”

“Tell me more. Anything. It doesn’t matter what it is.”

And then—

“And just so you know... I’m the same. My head is flooded every second with the desire to have everything I don’t know yet. If that makes you strange, then I’m strange too.”

Isn’t that right? The refined tone he usually used had completely vanished. His voice, bare of pretense, whispered sweet words as if they were secrets. Instead of his hand, golden threads extended out and shimmered like dancers at Yuder’s side. Kishiar’s scent, which had filled the room at some point, gently brushed across Yuder’s skin, asking for a reaction, for anything in return.

When Yuder’s own scent, long coiled inside him, burst out in response, Kishiar’s smile widened brightly. He rose from his seat.

Yuder flung his arms open and embraced him tightly, feeling as if a great beast were pouncing over him. The crimson eyes that met his at close range were filled with a hunger that matched his own, just as Kishiar had said.

A moment later, the guestroom sofa let out a groan as if it might collapse...

—

“...After what happened in the South with the broken sofa, I told myself I’d try to avoid doing it in places like this, but I guess that memory conveniently vanished in the moment.”

Lying atop Kishiar’s body on the now thoroughly spent office sofa, Yuder muttered faintly. Kishiar, whose fingers had been endlessly playing with Yuder’s hair, blinked.

“Goodness. You actually thought that? Then maybe I should also try to show a bit more restraint going forward.”

“No, this is my issue, so you’re an exception.”

Restraint? As if. Kishiar was too good at controlling himself—that was the real problem. After working so hard to tear down the wall between them, Yuder had no intention of putting it back up.

He stated that clearly, and Kishiar’s shoulders trembled as if he were holding back laughter.

“Does the advice you gave me—‘don’t hold back’—apply even here?”

“Yes.”

“But I feel like the effort to hold back should be mutual.”

“I told you not to.”

“Hmm... well then.”

His attempt to hold back laughter failed. Kishiar’s body trembled, and the vibration carried up through Yuder, who lay draped over him. Yuder let out a quiet sigh. Even though it had only happened once, he felt so drained he didn’t even feel like saying anything more. Kishiar leaned up and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, while his scent, no less active than its master, stroked over Yuder again.

Even after all that intensity, the aura around him hadn’t faded in the slightest—if anything, it felt even stronger now.

It’s not just my imagination, is it? Since we arrived in Peleta, his scent has definitely been getting stronger.

He’d thought that on the first day too, but just now it had been even more intense. While Yuder’s scent had already settled back inside him, Kishiar’s was still vivid, nearly unchanged from its peak. Even factoring in heightened emotions and Swordmaster stamina, it was astonishing.

Most likely, this is the original strength of his scent, and he’s just been restraining it instinctively all this time...

How had Kishiar’s scent been in his past life? All he could remember was pain—so overwhelming and suffocating that there’d been no room to even notice what it smelled like. Yuder gave up on comparing the two.

Scent couldn’t be seen even with magical sight. It was all based on sensation, making any firm conclusion elusive. But if it got even stronger next time, he’d have to see just how far it could go.

What am I even thinking right now...

Amused at himself, Yuder let out a faint chuckle.

Still basking in the afterglow, he stared at the scattered clothes tangled against the sofa and the moonlight falling across them. The man who’d kept his head resting against Yuder’s skin all this time spoke softly.

“Still thinking about dreams?”

“...Yes. Well, that too.”

He couldn’t exactly admit he’d been thinking about Kishiar’s scent, so that was the answer he gave. Kishiar nodded.

“You said you haven’t dreamed anything beyond what you’d already told me before.”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s certain—you haven’t had one since you saw the ‘white gloves.’”

The haze of drowsiness faded slightly, his senses sharpening. It seemed that Kishiar had actually been the one thinking seriously about the dreams. Yuder cautiously retraced his memories. Kishiar was right. Ever since the moment he dreamed of the hand in the white gloves, he hadn’t seen another dream about the final day of his past life.

It hadn’t been that long, and he had recovered some memories simply by seeing the sea of Peleta without dreaming at all, but still...

“Do you think there’s a connection?”

“I’m just considering the possibility. Reviewing when you did or didn’t dream might reveal something useful.”

“I always thought those dreams weren’t following any pattern... but maybe you’re right. Better to try than not.”

“Exactly. Better to do something than nothing. Shall we try going over it together?”

As Yuder pondered, Kishiar asked him a question.

“When did you say you had that dream for the first time?”

“...The day after returning from the Red Stone recovery mission. I fell asleep in the Cavalry dormitory and dreamed of ‘that day’ for the first time.”

It had been a deeply emotional day. He’d not only participated in a mission he hadn’t even seen in his past life—he had finished it himself. He’d finally felt the reality of what he had accomplished.

He remembered it clearly. In the dream, Kishiar had been sitting behind a desk.

Yuder had known it was a dream, and when Kishiar spoke words he had no memory of, he’d been shocked.

It had been short—but vivid. His first dream.

As Yuder recalled it, Kishiar, also lost in thought, finally spoke in a quiet voice.

“So, to summarize—it was after you were first injured by the Red Stone, and it was a moment when you felt emotionally affected by how different things were from your past life.”

“Yes... I suppose you could put it that way.”