"What should we do?"

What did he mean by 'what should we do'? Kishiar's lips briefly curled into a smile devoid of warmth as he silently gazed at Yuder, contemplating the ambiguous statement. Kishiar leaned his head against Yuder's shoulder as he let out a breath, as if exhaling unspeakable burdens.

"Really, what should we do"

The utterance, devoid of a clear subject, felt like a sigh of parched sorrow or perhaps an exclamation of fervent regret. There seemed to be room for myriad interpretations, making it difficult to discern what he actually intended to convey.

But one thing was clear.

Even after hearing the story, Kishiar wanted to deeply connect with Yuder.

That was enough to quash any doubt. Yuder didn't say another word and simply let his body relax into Kishiar's embrace. Despite having only played a few tactical games, his muscles screamed as if he had completed an exceedingly difficult task.

"If I think of anything more about what lies ahead, I will discuss it with you later. I may not know much, but I remember most things related to disasters."

Instead of responding, Kishiar gently breathed onto Yuder's nape.

After a brief silence, Yuder impulsively spoke, noticing the trembling of Kishiar's fingers near his knee.

"Do you know that Kanna has been avoiding me lately?"

"A bit. But it didnt seem to be a big problem, so I left it alone."

Kishiar, ever inscrutable, hinted that he had guessed as much.

"Yes. I only recently found out why. The moment our gloves touched, she apparently gleaned information that led her to speculate about my relationship with you. She seemed to be struggling to keep this a secret, but after sharing it, she felt relieved and pleased."

Kishiar would probably guess why Yuder had brought this up. Still, Yuder slowly articulated his thoughts.

"I think I feel the same way now."

"Keeping secrets is difficult and painful."

"Ive never felt that way before. I neither desire to confide in others nor find it difficult or painful."

Whether the story deserved secrecy or not, it was all the same to Yuder. He had often been criticized for appearing emotionless. He never felt the need to share his inner thoughts, nor was he curious about others' secrets.

The Emperor Katchian, who admired this trait in Yuder, had heard that even when Yuder was tortured, he remained silent and revealed nothing. This belatedly sent a chill down the Emperor's spine.

Only Kishiar was an exception. The common sense that information is more beneficial when kept to oneself lost its meaning in front of him. The weight of a secret felt heavier to Yuder than any shackles he had ever worn.

Deceiving himself was perhaps better than deceiving Kishiar.

"How honorable. So, am I the only one who knows what you've just shared?"

Yuder closed and reopened his eyes in response to Kishiar's question.

"You are the only one who knows this much though Enon does know a bit."

Yuder wondered if this might cause disappointment, but Kishiar's voice remained serene.

"How much does he know?"

"He knows that I'm involved in a new game, and that I aim for different outcomes than before."

"Is he, perhaps, one of the outcomes you wanted to change?"

It had grown rather pointless to react to Kishiar's insights.

"Yes."

"I recall what you said after the Western mission was over. You mentioned that we shouldn't be too hard on ourselves for our performance, suggesting that we might have prevented greater chaos."

Hearing Kishiar's words, Yuder also remembered the conversation they'd had at that time.

"I think it's time to return those words to you."

Yuder turned his head to meet Kishiar's gaze. Deep-set red eyes, filled with complex emotions, softly swirled as they held Yuder.

"Both His Majesty and I, and everyone else for that matter, owe you a great deal. It would be absurd if the person in question didn't realize this."

"A debt, you say?"

"A very big one."

Despite his disagreement, Kishiar wouldn't hear of it. Just as Yuder was about to speak further, Kishiar skillfully interrupted him by suggesting they rest for the day in his chambers, pointing to the darkening sky outside the window.

Yuder would have refused in the past, but tonight he wanted to make sure that Kishiar got a proper night's sleep.

They even played a tactical game, but you can never be sure of the outcome without seeing it. Knowing all too well how skilled Kishiar was at acting perfectly fine, Yuder felt it imperative to verify this for himself.

Kishiar no longer took headache medicine. Without a word, he kissed Yuder several times and, without a single gap, drew him close, resting their heads together. Near Kishiar's bed hung a sachet of fragrant herbs, similar to one in Yuder's rooma gift from the Empress.

Amid the subtle aroma, fighting back exhaustion and sleep, Kishiar whispered with a smile, already aware of Yuder's struggle to stay awake.

"Sweet dreams."

And then, a whispered, "Thank you."

It was so faint that Yuder couldn't be certain he'd heard it correctly. But not wanting to wake the man whose eyes were already closed, Yuder simply blinked quietly in his embrace.

Lying side by side, Yuder realized this might be the first time he fell asleep after Kishiar. While awake, he hadn't noticed, but with eyes closed, he saw Kishiar's cheeks were paler than usual. Even the tiredness, induced by sleep deprivation, made him appear differently beautiful. Yuder found he couldn't be entranced by that beauty as he had been before.

The same man who had been surprisingly composed, even when confronted with unbelievable tales of time travel and his own death, appeared so fragile now, all because of a dream in which Yuder died. This realization brought both wonder and a pang of sorrow.

Looking at his peacefully resting face, Yuder thought of his past life's self, who had not been curious about him. Knowing the truth of his death, perhaps this man before him would be as nonchalant about it today. The thought crossed his mind for the first time.

So maybe, just maybe, Yuder felt that he shouldn't be the only one to feel that way.

'...Perhaps I'm the one who should be grateful, the one who is truly in debt.'

For a long time, Yuder watched Kishiar sleep in the darkness. Doing nothing more than watching him wasn't boring or uncomfortable. This moment felt like the most peaceful part of his day.

What should he do now? Yuder quietly repeated to himself the words Kishiar had once murmured.

What should he do now?

The love he first became aware of and named didn't seem like a stranger upon reflection, but rather like one of the familiar sensations that had always gripped his heart and never let go.

Beneath the dim moonlight streaming through a round window at the highest point of the bedroom, Kishiar opened his eyes.

He gazed at Yuder, who lay beside him, breathing evenly. A wistful smile appeared on his face. He wanted to kiss Yuder's smooth forehead, revealing his character even in sleep, but refrained, knowing that Yuder would wake up due to his heightened senses. Instead, he pressed his own lips to his fingertip and lightly touched it to Yuder's hair before rising.

Stepping quietly, he left the bedroom and walked down the chilly corridor into his study. The fire in the hearth seemed weaker than before, perhaps due to the many spent magic stones. He added another handful, and the flames roared to life in brilliant colors, illuminating the neglected game board and chairs.

Kishiar took a seat and quietly examined the board he had set up.

White pieces led by a white king had won the round, still standing triumphant against the black pieces.

He stared at the setup as if committing it to memory before starting to return the pieces to their original positions. Soon, the board was restored, looking ready for another game.

Even after resetting the board, Kishiar didn't stop. He began moving the black pieces, then placing them back on the board one by one.

Black piece. Next, a white piece. Then another black piece.

The pieces found their places without hesitation, following the exact sequence of their first game with Yuder.

Usually, he would replay the game in his mind, but sometimes, when he wanted to relive the emotions perfectly, he would play it out alone like this. Kishiar felt that now was one of those times.

Click,

Click,

Click

As the soft sounds of the pieces touching the board echoed in a steady rhythm, Kishiar's thoughts drifted to Yuder's pale face that he had once gazed upon.

He recalled every moment: the scarred hands placing the pieces without hesitation, the moments of truth confessed in a voice as cold but burning like dark ashes.

-Click

What he had heard today was not everything. He was certain of that.

Yuder had told him that there was more to be said, yet he didn't realize how vacant his own expression was when he said it.

And he probably didn't know what emotions that had stirred in the observer.

Kishiar replayed their numerous games over and over. The intricate maneuvers Yuder had made, the swapping of general and king pieces that Kishiar had executed, all flowed seamlessly until they suddenly stopped. Despite his intention to keep them on track, the pieces began to stray from their predetermined lines and boundaries.

Why had the pieces crossed the lines even when he thought he had played them correctly?

Kishiar stared down at the hexagonal board with a blank expression. For a moment, everything blurred, and the straight lines twisted. Then suddenly, everything became clear again.

At that moment, a transparent droplet fell onto the board, leaving its mark.

Kishiar stopped, holding a piece in his hand.

It seemed that he couldn't continue the replay anymore.