ETVC C35

Chapter 35

“Of course, I purchased it that I might sleep in your chamber.”

I found no need to bite my tongue, for Baek Soohyuk’s words, spoken with such natural certainty, robbed me of speech. By now, even his unhesitating address of me as Brother had become something I was nearly accustomed to.

“I detest the notion of sharing a bed with you.”

For once, the curse’s cruel filter had altered my words little, for in this instance, the sentiment was indeed my own. I was a grown man; how absurd, then, to think I must sleep beside one so much my junior, simply because of nightmares. Soohyuk may have believed there to be but a year between us, yet in truth, our ages were not so near.

“Bear with it a while. Of late you have not slept, and surely you have dreamt nightmares. And if illness should befall you on top of all else? Have you already forgotten the pain that came upon you but yesterday?”

His voice, once so rigid, grew softer by the day, at times so gentle as to trick me into believing he could be mild. It seemed that, by his measure, he grew tender when faced with those he deemed close.

“I told you clearly that I do not consent.”

“Tonight’s supper is tacos. I heard they are worth the taste—though whether you find them so, I cannot say.”

He did not press further but simply drew forth the food from his bag and set it upon the table. By now he had learnt my weakness for good meals, for we had shared several.

“Bring spoon and chopsticks.”

At the sight of the richly spread fare, my stomach, once quiet, clamoured eagerly. Only an hour ago I had had no appetite, wearied by sleeplessness, yet now it was as though I had always been hungry. Once, I had scarcely eaten three full meals in a day, yet since my stay in the hospital I had grown accustomed to Soohyuk’s steady hand.

“Eat well.”

Plump shrimp and slices of beef cooked to a perfect medium rare, laid upon tortilla with fresh vegetables and dipped in sauce—the taste was heavenly. Were Michelin to know of this house, they would grant it stars without hesitation.

“Delicious,” I murmured unthinkingly.

“I am glad.”

Though he had bought the meal, Soohyuk scarcely ate, watching me instead with a gaze almost paternal. What satisfaction could he find in merely watching another eat? I nudged the dish closer to him.

“Very well, I shall eat too.”

His smile softened his stern features at once. I had only wished to keep him from sitting idle, yet he received it as though I had bestowed some rare gift. Embarrassed, I quenched my throat with water.

The meal, to my surprise, was peaceful, even pleasant.

The trouble came when night fell. With boldness unshaken, Soohyuk strode into my chamber, carrying the great folding bed.

“Leave, while I speak gently.”

“When have you ever spoken gently?”

It was true; my words to him had ever been sharp, and thus I could not retort. The room, never large, was now crowded with the added bed. Even Meow bristled at the intrusion, springing onto my knee with tail lashing.

“Even if you dislike it, you must grow accustomed.”

Soohyuk, unmoved, shoved the bed closer still.

“Keep your distance. I loathe being near you, and now I cannot even leave.”

“Sleep.”

It was as though he had chosen the tactic of ignoring all protest.

He does not even lessen my nightmares by lying beside me. What purpose does this serve?

Yet when the light was extinguished, I found his steady breathing oddly comforting. Contrary to my expectations, I drifted into sleep more easily than I had in days.

There are days when nothing is different, and yet all feels strange. On such days, one even forgets how to breathe naturally. The boy felt so now.

Crash!

It was a night of storm and rain. Beyond the window, lightning split the sky, thunder growled, and the world beneath his feet seemed unsteady. Unease gnawed at him; he could not sleep.

〈Why are you awake?〉

A youthful Soohyuk found the boy in the parlour, restless.

〈Sleep eludes me. And you—why are you here?〉

The boy, feeling distance where closeness should have been, asked awkwardly.

〈The thunder roused me. It is loud.〉

His hair was tousled, his nightclothes rumpled—rarely had he looked so undone.

〈Indeed. I wonder when the rain will cease.〉

They stood side by side, not close, yet not unfriendly.

Crash, boom!

Amid the thunder, another sound was lost. The boy stared absently into the rain, eyes unfocused, as though hiding some thought.

〈That noise… it is not thunder. Is something amiss upstairs?〉

Soohyuk, ever keen, caught what the boy ignored. Slowly, the boy raised his gaze to the ceiling.

〈Perhaps. Something may have broken.〉

Once, he would have feared his violent father was striking his mother again. But now, that fear was past.

〈Let us go.〉

Soohyuk would not overlook such things. With long strides, he mounted the stairs. The boy hesitated, then hurried after, knowing Soohyuk would not wait.

〈Is aught the matter?〉 he asked, knocking at his parents’ door.

“Do not enter! Flee!”

Glass shattered, heavy things collided, voices cried out in pain.

〈I am coming in.〉

“No!”

But heedless, Soohyuk flung open the door.

Inside lay a scene of horror. A monster, towering over two metres, clutched the headless body of a man. Blood and hair clung to its jaws as it bit once more.

〈Ugh!〉

The boy reeled in terror. His stepfather was dead, but there was no time for grief.

With a heave, the creature hurled the corpse against the wall. The beige wallpaper soaked with blood.

“Run, children, run!”

His mother was grievously wounded. Scratches marred her face where she had stifled her own cries, lest the children come.

〈Mother…〉

The boy was rooted, unable to flee or advance, watching helplessly as the monster turned upon her.

〈Call a hunter! Report an abnormal gate—hurry!〉

Soohyuk, who had just seen his father slain, spoke with icy composure—or the guise of it.

〈And you?〉

〈I shall hold it here.〉

Shamefully, the boy felt relief at those words, and loathed himself for it.

The stench was foul. The creature seized his mother, jaws yawning wide.

〈Ah… ah…〉

The boy sank to the floor. His mind knew he must protect her, yet his body refused. Against this beast, unlike his father, he had no chance.

His trembling hands summoned his status screen—there, numbers for strength and mana, but no skills. Only the words: Not yet manifested.

Soohyuk did not falter. Without hesitation, he rushed past, throwing himself upon the monster. It was an act of pure conviction, untempered by doubt.

The boy, stricken, could only watch. Though his powers too lay dormant, Soohyuk faced the horror to shield the woman who had fainted at its feet.

〈Soohyuk!〉

At his cry, Soohyuk seized a shard of glass and drove it into the monster’s foot.

The beast roared, dropping the woman in annoyance. Blood spread across the floor.

〈Yes—this way.〉

Soohyuk drew the monster aside, away from the boy and his mother. A faint light flickered about him—the first signs of awakening.