Turning-Chapter 885

Outside overflowed with life, but no sound could breach the silence inside Kishiar’s bedchamber. It was a stillness as deep and thick as water, as if he were resting in an entirely different world. Wrapped in the cool scent of incense and lying still with his eyes closed, Kishiar seemed untouched by anything beyond.

For someone who hardly needed sleep thanks to the advantages of being a Swordmaster, it was strange that he’d remained asleep for nearly an entire day. Thinking back on it, Yuder realized that every time Kishiar had said his condition wasn’t good and returned to his room, he'd always been found lying down—not necessarily because he had to be, but perhaps because he needed to be.

Yuder quietly took a seat at his bedside. His eyes went first to the incense, now nearly burned down to the wick. Its bitter scent had given way to a stinging wisp of smoke.

Even if it was supposed to be helpful, Kishiar had never been particularly fond of that incense.

It’s probably fine to get rid of it.

With a simple flick of his hand, the faint smoke curling from the incense was snuffed out.

Instead of calling on a stronger wind to clear the remaining scent, Yuder chose another method. He released a scent he’d kept sealed away lately, one tied to his Awakener energy. Though the scent of a Second-Class Awakener wasn’t perceptible through smell alone, in a situation like this, it would surely help.

The faint, mist-like aura spread out through the room, pushing away the remnants of the incense and surrounding them in something uniquely his.

In his past life, this kind of act had been used by bonded Second-Class Awakeners as a show of possessiveness. He never thought he’d be the one doing it, but now that he had, it wasn’t unpleasant at all.

His gaze drifted to the hand resting gently outside the blanket.

Bare, ungloved.

Yuder removed his own gloves and placed his hand slowly over Kishiar’s. His skin felt slightly warmer than usual—maybe a light fever.

There's hardly any sweat on his forehead, so it probably isn’t serious...

Still, the unfamiliarity of it brought concern. Glancing around, Yuder spotted a basin and towel not far off. From the looks of it, they had clearly been placed there for cooling purposes. Which suggested that perhaps this hadn’t been the first time this happened.

He brought the basin over, filled it with cool water, and soaked the towel. As he gently wiped Kishiar’s exposed forehead, neck, and hands, a strange feeling crept over him.

This was the first time he’d cared for someone like this, staying close and tending to them in a way that could be called nursing. Yet he mimicked the process surprisingly well—thanks entirely to how thoroughly Kishiar had modeled it for him in the past.

And the only reason he could do it so well... must’ve been because days like this weren’t rare for him. Because he’d experienced being taken care of so often himself.

Yuder recalled every moment in the West when Kishiar had looked after him, every detail of how he’d helped. Moving his hands accordingly, he continued the task. The cool water helped reduce the fever, but another dilemma soon presented itself.

Should I change his clothes too?

Yuder hesitated, then slowly pulled the blanket down a little. Part of Kishiar’s bare chest peeked through his loosened shirt. He already knew what was underneath... but strangely, he still felt nervous.

To feel nervous in front of someone whose body he’d already shared—that was almost laughable. But then again, even if he were a hundred years old, facing Kishiar la Orr in such a situation would always stir something in him.

How could it not? Every time he looked at that face—even though he saw it nearly every day—it always evoked unfamiliar, overwhelming emotions.

And yet, when they touched, when they were close, it also felt like the most natural thing in the world. It was more than intimacy—it was like feeling the final piece of the puzzle click into place.

Eventually, Yuder decided not to change Kishiar’s clothes. Instead, he placed his hand gently over Kishiar’s once more and lowered his forehead to rest against the back of it. The faint scent from Kishiar’s skin, familiar and steady, calmed the erratic thumping in his chest.

What kind of dreams is he seeing right now?

Yuder hoped he wasn’t dreaming at all. But if he was... he wished, at least, that the dreams were better than his own had ever been.

And if possible, he hoped Kishiar would wake up soon so he could hear about everything that had happened today, so they could laugh and talk about it together.

Because no matter how strange or joyful something might be, it meant nothing if Kishiar wasn’t there to hear it.

The thought felt foreign. But not wrong. Yuder sighed deeply.

This is serious.

From the moment he’d released his own scent because he didn’t like the idea of any other scent covering Kishiar... everything he’d done since had been clumsy and irrational, like a child.

Still, being able to look at Kishiar as much as he wanted—at least that was something. Compared to the two weeks Yuder himself had been unconscious, waiting a few more hours for Kishiar to wake up was nothing.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

As he let the sensation of waiting for someone sink into him, Yuder began running through the things he’d say once Kishiar awoke.

Time passed as he never once looked away from the sleeping man’s face.

And finally... the closed eyelids slowly fluttered open without a sound.

So this is what it feels like... when time that seemed frozen begins to move again.

Yuder felt his heart, which had been beating slowly, suddenly leap into motion as he locked eyes with Kishiar.

The crimson irises blinked once, focusing first on Yuder’s hand holding his, then shifting to his face. Watching life return to the expression that had moments ago looked like stone—it was an astonishingly vivid sight.

“...Ah.”

Kishiar exhaled as his lips parted, his eyes softening—and he smiled, bright and wide.

“You waited for me to wake up, didn’t you? This might be the best way I’ve ever woken up.”

That smile—one Yuder knew so well, that never failed to steal his breath—was finally there before him again. At that moment, the frozen time and the stillness within Yuder also returned to their proper rhythm. As if color returned to a gray world, as if sound came rushing back into silence.

Still looking at Kishiar’s face, Yuder spoke in a small voice.

“...Is this how it felt for you?”

Kishiar’s crimson eyes blinked once, as if asking what he meant.

“You’ve watched me wake up many times. I used to wonder if it wasn’t boring for you... but now, if this is how it felt for you, then ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.”

“Hah. I wondered what you were getting at.”

Though the words could’ve easily sounded strange, Kishiar smiled as if he understood exactly what Yuder meant. His recovered strength let him grip Yuder’s hand and gently pull it toward him.

“I never once thought it was boring to wait for you. Every time you woke and came back to me—it was miraculous. Precious. There was no room for boredom in that.”

“......”

Yuder was deeply relieved that Kishiar had woken up. If not, he might’ve acted on impulse and kissed him while he was still asleep.

He bowed his head and gently pressed his lips to Kishiar’s.

Kishiar’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he smiled as he returned the kiss. Their lips touched and parted softly, over and over, until they finally drew apart. Yuder could now clearly feel how much more his own scent filled the room than before.

Kishiar seemed to notice it too. He inhaled deeply, as if savoring it, his heat-glazed eyes blinking slowly.

“...Did you wait long?”

Yuder shook his head. Honestly, he had no idea how many hours had passed.

“No.”

“Your bandages are gone, and your clothes have been changed... so I must’ve been asleep longer than I thought. You must’ve seen the pharmacist, and probably went outside too...”

“......”

“Still, I’m glad to know waiting wasn’t too boring while I was out.”