My breathing slowly cald.
As the frequency of my gasps decreased, the flood of mories settled into place. I still hadn't recalled everything, but the mories of my old comrade who had faced my sword remained vividly clear.
Ray.
I wasn't sure if I even had the right to call his na.
Or if I had the right to cry like this.
But the tears wouldn't stop easily, so I wept quietly for a long ti before wiping them away again.
He might as well have been killed by my own hand.
I also recalled Lee Seung-hyun, the soldier who had been scouted from Korea. He was soone born with a natural talent for combat.
I rembered being astonished by his skills . . .
And his smile.
He wasn't one to smile much. His face wasn't so much expressionless as slightly furrowed by default. Even though he was young and promising when we first t, he wasn't soone you could easily get close to. I always kept a certain distance when dealing with him.
But exactly twice, Lee Seung-hyun smiled brightly, basking in the congratulations of his comrades.
I muttered blankly to myself.
"Now I rember."
The tears had stopped now, but the shock hadn't fully faded.
"Lee Seung-hyun was an orphan."
Ye-hyeon, who knelt and looked up at , nodded quietly.
The revived mories were accurate. I had exchanged simple conversations with the young man.
Among the human soldiers I had trained, he boasted the most outstanding skills. Lee Seung-hyun was soone who didn't know how to give love. He had never properly been cared for.
That didn't justify abusing his son, of course.
But even so, he had smiled purely and without a trace of pretense exactly twice.
Once when he announced his marriage.
And again when he shared the news of his child's birth.
Just those two tis.
So . . .
"That child back then was you."
I looked down at the person who sat there in a daze in front of .
Now that I saw it, Ye-hyeon really resembled Lee Seung-hyun. The lines of his face were much softer than his father's, but the arrangent of his features was identical.
I rembered telling Lee Seung-hyun how much I congratulated him on becoming a father.
"You've grown so much since then."
Unconsciously, I reached out and patted the head of the one who looked up at .
Ye-hyeon widened his eyes a bit but didn't move.
Wow, he really looked just like him. Even the deep eye color and hair color were the sa.
The fluffy black hair . . .
. . . Huh?
Hair?
Ye-hyeon's hair?
"Argh!"
I scread and jerked back.
Ye-hyeon, who had been looking up at quietly, also widened his eyes and sprang back.
The distance opened up in an instant.
I froze with my hand pulled back toward my body, while Ye-hyeon froze in a standing position.
Silence descended upon the living room in a flash. The n stood rigid in the tense air. We remained frozen like that for a while, just staring at each other with rabbit-like wide eyes.
The only sound was the slurp of Yoon drinking his coffee.
Ye-hyeon was the first to break the silence.
"Why are you doing that?"
"Argh! Please don't use formal speech with !"
Why was he using formal speech with of all people?
No, as the commander, why was he using formal speech with ?
I freaked out and frantically shook off my foolish hand that had been patting Ye-hyeon.
"I'm sorry!"
"Huh? No, what?"
"I'll correct it. I'm really sorry!"
"You've really lost your sense of propriety."
Yoon comnted in a dry voice.
He sat calmly on the sofa alone, drinking his coffee, with his legs crossed and one hand draped over the backrest.
The ntor added without batting an eye.
"This is even worse than Richard's case. Should I start using formal speech with you too?"
"Argh!"
Don't!
I jumped to my feet.
"Please don't!"
"What?"
"I don't like it! No formal speech!"
"Why are you rejecting it so vehently?"
"Treat like a newbie!"
I shouted with all sincerity.
"Treat like the green rookie I am, just like before!"
The ntor let my words go in one ear and out the other.
He fixed his gaze on and brought the coffee cup to his lips. One eyebrow arched silently. His pitch-black, emotionless eyes scanned my face.
Even after hearing everything, he seed unchanged—that was so like him.
I looked at Yoon seriously and said.
"In our line of work, what does age matter, respected senior?"
"Oh. That's a proper attitude."
Yoon pretended to be surprised.
The senior set his coffee cup down on the table.
"But soone with such convictions goes around patting the head of their top superior?"
"Argh! I'm sorry!"
What was I thinking?
Making a tearful face, I bowed deeply to Ye-hyeon again. Ye-hyeon tried to stop in a flustered voice. The top superior approached, telling to lift my head, then turned to Yoon.
Ye-hyeon furrowed his brows and scolded Yoon.
"Yoon. Don't do that."
Yoon looked at Ye-hyeon and lifted one corner of his mouth.
"What did I do?"
"Don't tease Hilde for no reason. And in private, it's right for to use formal speech with Hilde."
"No, it's not."
I made a serious face at his absurd statent.
Yoon bowed his head and started chuckling lowly. Ye-hyeon turned to , his already large eyes widening further.
The top superior blinked a couple of tis before asking back.
"You hate it that much?"
"Yes. No, please."
Why did he keep using formal speech?
"Please treat like before."
"Hmm . . . I could if you want, but . . . "
Surprisingly, Ye-hyeon hesitated.
Blood slowly drained from his face.
As I felt increasingly dizzy, the man slowly added.
"I heard you taught my father swordsmanship."
Ah. That's right.
Lee Seung-hyun was an exceptional disciple.
More outstanding than anyone I'd trained up to that point.
"I learned the swordsmanship you taught my father, and I also received the voice ssages you left behind. So, even setting age aside, in private, it's only natural for to use formal speech . . . "
"It's not natural at all."
What part of that was natural?
But the superior just blinked and looked at . He had an expression that said he wouldn't listen if I explained it normally.
With no choice, I started begging him to treat like before. I apologized profusely for the hyperventilation-induced ramblings and for mindlessly patting his head like an idiot.
And I eagerly exposed my shortcomings, saying that while the past might be like that, my current skills were still pathetic.
Ignoring Yoon's lant about my ssed-up sense of propriety, I went on like that for a while.
Until Ye-hyeon's work phone rang and the atmosphere shifted.
*
In the end, the issue of how to address each other was resolved the next morning.
At 8 a.m., summoned to the cabin, I persuaded the two seniors once more.
Fortunately, Yoon quickly promised to treat as usual. He didn't know how old I was, but my skills were still subpar, so I'd remain the fresh-faced newbie.
How gratifying those blunt words were. I offered my ntor a heartfelt greeting.
Then I switched targets to Ye-hyeon and began pleading.
The top superior hesitated for a long ti.
"You use informal speech with my father, right?"
"No, that's because he's my disciple . . . No, because Father is an old acquaintance of mine. But you're my top superior."
"It's right to respect each other's positions in official settings, but in private like this . . . "
"I haven't fully recovered all my mories yet."
I was desperate.
"At least use formal speech with after I've regained all my mories and can pull my weight as one person."
That argunt was accepted.
The conversation returned to how it was before. As the superior naturally spoke informally to , a small peace settled in my heart. I placed my palm on my chest and let out a sigh of relief.
Of course, that peace didn't last long.
Strangely, Ye-hyeon wasn't preparing to go to work. He looked at with relief and said.
"So, do you want to pick up the sword again?"
I stiffened reflexively.
My chest ached as if pierced by sharp glass. Last night, I'd tried to ignore the pain and get so sleep.
My sword, stained with Ray's blood.
If I asked for it back, Ye-hyeon would surely hand it over willingly. He might have been waiting for that day ever since I arrived here.
But I still wasn't certain.
It felt oddly like a weekend morning. Maybe because Ye-hyeon showed no sign of heading to work. Clear morning sunlight poured in through the living room's large windows. The scent of early morning air wafted in through the open kitchen window.
With my sharpened senses taking in the cool sensations, I answered.
"I don't want to hold it until my skills return."
The superior listened quietly to my heavy response.
"You might think it's foolish, but it feels like the proper thing to do . . . "
To Ray, and to my sword that had slumbered for so long.
I trailed off, but no one pressed . Ye-hyeon, with an inscrutable expression, simply nodded. I was grateful that they didn't ask anything.
My recalled past still hadn't been properly sorted out.
Suppressing the guilt and self-loathing that gnawed a hole in my chest, I offered a greeting.
"Thank you."
"No."
Ye-hyeon replied shortly.
"Let know when the ti cos."
"Yes. Please bear with a little longer."
"Sure."
After responding straightforwardly, the superior fell into thought.
Standing still under the white morning sunlight, he only looked at after Yoon lazily rose from the sofa and approached, saying it was ti to go.
Unsure who Yoon was addressing, Ye-hyeon said to .
"Then let's go spar."
"Huh?"
"Sword sparring."
The superior said it casually.
"Let's have a sword match with , Hilde. I need to see your skills."
I stared piercingly at Ye-hyeon.
Various thoughts crossed my mind. But I only voiced the one I was most curious about.
"Do you have a sword, Commander?"
Or was he planning to use mine?
Perhaps sensing the implication in my question, Ye-hyeon smiled bitterly.
"I haven't touched your sword since that day."
There was an inexplicable apology in Ye-hyeon's voice as he explained.
"I haven't shown it to anyone else or talked about it in detail. I've taken it out occasionally to maintain it. I'm worried it might not et your standards . . . "
"No."
I replied softly.
Looking into his black eyes that always seed tinged with sorrow, I said.
"Thank you for keeping my sword so precious."
It was the possession I'd poured the most affection into.
To the point where longing surged just knowing it existed. Even knowing it was stained with Ray's blood, I couldn't suppress the nostalgia.
I didn't know what I'd feel when I actually held the sword again.
In any case, I was grateful to the one who had treated the bequeathed sword with care.
Once my skills returned, I could hold my long sword once more.
"Will you spar with ?"
When I looked up and asked, Ye-hyeon smiled sadly and nodded.
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