Ilrey had no intention of returning the cheese or the half-drunk beer. He set down the fork that had been poking at the salmon.“I’m not very hungry—probably because I didn’t sleep enough.”At the sudden remark, Taeui frowned in surprise. “Sleep?” It didn’t sound like the words of someone with nerves thick enough to sleep through a hail of bullets. Ilrey had mentioned restless dreams earlier, but what kind of ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) nightmare could disturb his slumber so badly?Before Taeui could open his mouth to ask, Ilrey rubbed his chin, lost in thought for a moment, then dropped his gaze to Taeui.“And thanks to someone clocking me twice in the jaw, it’s hard to sleep when my face still hurts.”Taeui froze. Even knowing Ilrey was staring, he’d lost control of his expression for the briefest instant. He recovered quickly, but Ilrey certainly noticed.Silence fell.“You’re scared now.” Ilrey’s voice was flat, but the accusation hit Taeui like a punch. He nearly dropped his beer. Spilling it would have been heartbreaking—but that wasn’t the issue.“W-what are you talking about?” Taeui forced out, struggling to keep his voice steady.This time he managed his expression. Looking Ilrey squarely in the eye, he said,“I’m not scared.”Ilrey only offered a faint, half-smile of contempt.“You regret it.”Taeui couldn’t pretend he didn’t hear that. He ground his teeth. If he could go back, he’d warn his forest-bound self: no matter how angry you are, violence isn’t the answer. Violence begets violence. …Damn it, if it had ever solved anything.But no words came. Silence became his answer.Ilrey watched quietly as Taeui drank the beer, still massaging his jaw. That thin glare of his was impossible to ignore, and Taeui felt sweat prick his skin.“I’m sorry.”When Ilrey spoke those unexpected words, Taeui felt as though he were watching a dubbed film. That apology, spoken by this man, was utterly incongruous.“Uh…?” Taeui blinked.“Say it.”“…What?”Reality snapped back. Of course Ilrey wasn’t joking—he was deadly serious.Say it: “From now on, I’ll always take Ilrey’s side and stay quietly by your side no matter what happens. Then we’ll pretend today never happened.”Ilrey’s eyes narrowed as he delivered the challenge. Taeui stared blankly for a moment, then clamped his mouth shut.He thought it was a joke, but Ilrey wasn’t joking.What could he do? He felt the urge to slap him again. (Or to leap back in time and egg his past self on: “If you’re going to hit him, don’t hold back!”)Ilrey didn’t expect much of a reply; he knew Taeui well enough to foresee this silence. Without waiting further, Ilrey rose. He’d barely touched his salad, and instead of telling Taeui he was done, he rummaged in his pocket for another fresh glove—different from the one he’d worn before. He must have discarded one more glove in the meantime.“Taeui,” he said as he slipped it on, “training’s almost over. Keep your eyes on Hogan. I’m not in the best mood—I’m thinking he’d make a fine punching bag.”His voice was no different from usual—perhaps just a hair lower. No anger, no mirth. But as he flexed and unclenched that gloved hand, Taeui realized every word was sincere.“See you later.”With that, Ilrey left. Taeui sat alone, watching his retreating figure, then forced himself to eat. His appetite had long since deserted him, but he needed the strength.Stress and dread weighed heavily on him. How had things come to this? And when would Ilrey’s twisted heart unwind? After training ended? …No, Ilrey’s bitterness seemed unrelated to this incident. If the root problem lay in something deeper than words could fix, there was nothing Taeui could do.“Damn.”Muttering to himself, Taeui picked up his beer—but it was nearly gone. He felt stifled, on the verge of sinking into gloom.In this state, no one approached his table. He sat stranded at a table no one dared come within five meters of.He didn’t necessarily need company, but this was blatant ostracism. (Still, he had no desire to join the distant tables where others quietly dined.)At least no one came running at him with a .50-caliber revolver. He cast a glance around the mess hall—rebuilt after a past disaster—and sighed.Just finish eating and get out of here, he thought, scooping another bite. The thought of then having to guard Hogan only deepened his gloom, but he banished it.“Mind if I sit here?”A shadow fell over the seat opposite him—Ilrey’s old spot. It was Yun Chang-o, entering the hall as though fresh from outside.“Sure,” Taeui said, pulling his beer can back toward himself. Yun Chang-o set his tray down and sat without a word.Since the march, they’d barely spoken. No shared training meant few hallway encounters—and those felt awkward. Taeui knew the rumors: being the partner of a murderous madman earned wary glances. Yet Yun Chang-o chose to sit here, and Taeui found it oddly comforting.“Why so alone? Where’s Kim Jeong-pil?” Taeui asked, spooning food into his mouth to break the ice.“He said he’d shower first, then eat.”I see, thought Taeui, though he wasn’t really curious. Yun Chang-o offered a few tentative remarks, but when it came to Kim Jeong-pil, he nearly ignored him.Since their final fistfight after the march, Taeui hadn’t exchanged a word with Kim Jeong-pil. They avoided each other; if their eyes met, Kim Jeong-pil swiftly looked away. The silence was even more intense than his usual belligerence—it was the look of pure hatred.If Kim Jeong-pil had shared his quarters instead of Hogan, Taeui half-joked that poison might have ended up in his supplements…Yun Chang-o hesitated, then asked,“Taeui, are you okay?”Shaking the empty beer can in lament, Taeui met Yun Chang-o’s concerned gaze and offered a soft smile. Why was it less awkward with Yun Chang-o? He was a man who liked men—yet he showed genuine concern.Maybe Taeui was luckier with people than he realized.“Why? You volunteering to speak for me?” Taeui teased, recalling Yun Chang-o’s earnest words from a few nights before. Yun Chang-o’s face fell—he knew he couldn’t.“Forget it. He won’t finish me off in one go—he has family.”Taeui laughed and waved it off. A joke, but not entirely. Still worried, Yun Chang-o ate in silence, then ventured,“Sitting here alone… don’t people think you’re close to that instructor? I hear his reputation’s terrible.”‘Terrible reputation’ was a mild phrase. Carlo would have called Hogan ‘scum of the earth.’ Taeui glanced at Carlo’s table and offered a wry nod.“Well, about seventy percent of that’s true—and thirty percent isn’t.”He was certain those same colleagues were betting on his downfall behind their whispers—perhaps wagering he’d end up in the infirmary or worse. But Yun Chang-o, oblivious to it all, sat in thoughtful silence. Taeui sighed softly.He didn’t mind how others misinterpreted him—but Yun Chang-o cared genuinely, and Taeui knew he owed him honesty. He couldn’t deceive someone like that.“Chang-o.”“Yeah?”“I’m okay. Thanks.”Taeui smiled, concise but sincere. He really believed it. No matter the hurts and anger piling up, time would heal—as it always had.So he was okay.Understanding, Yun Chang-o’s serious frown softened, but concern lingered. He hesitated before speaking again.“But still, you and your instructor don’t seem on good terms either. …Won’t that cause you trouble later?”“Tch…” Taeui unconsciously frowned. He’d almost forgotten Hogan’s thinly veiled contempt. Even before others, Hogan made no secret of his disdain.But there were only a few days left of training. Neither he nor Hogan belonged here permanently. Of course, those days would bring heavy burdens.Taeui shrugged lightly.“Trouble? Please. He’s already slipping me sleeping pills—that’s as friendly as it gets.”Yun Chang-o laughed, thinking he was joking.“I think Jeong-pil gets along with him better. They were at the water cooler together during break.”“Hmm… If those two get along, I can’t really blame it. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all.”Yun Chang-o chuckled. Whether two unlikable people were friends or foes mattered little—but it still stung that Kim Jeong-pil’d insult him as ‘that homo bastard’ and Hogan would eagerly agree.

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