“I feel the same. Still, it seems the outline is gradually becoming clearer, so we’ll need to keep collecting related information from all directions.”

Such speculations must have arisen from things said during the investigation. But if even the writer of that document couldn’t uncover more, then the chances of anyone else finding answers were slim.

With every mystery solved, a new question emerged—like an endless vine that kept unraveling the more one pulled.

And yet, it didn’t feel hopeless. Because beside him was Kishiar, who was investigating this more seriously than Yuder himself. And Kanna had offered great help too, hadn’t she?

Yuder calmed his thoughts and let out a long breath.

“Is that the last of the documents you wanted to show me?”

“For today, yes.”

“For today” meant there would be more. Who knew what else Kishiar would investigate and bring next? His energy and initiative were remarkable.

Yuder bowed his head respectfully.

“You’ve helped me a great deal. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I only did what I believed we ought to do together.”

After answering like that, Kishiar fell briefly silent. It was as if he were choosing his next words with great care before speaking.

For someone who was rarely hesitant with his words to suddenly pause like this?

Ah. We haven’t even started discussing the theory related to what Kanna discovered yesterday. Is that what he’s about to bring up?

What must Kishiar have thought while listening to Kanna’s findings? He’d likely already known the materials he showed today—so he must have had his own conclusions.

Yuder, instead of rushing him, watched the sunlight reflected off Kishiar’s golden hair, so bright it turned white at the edges, and time passed more pleasantly than he expected.

At last, Kishiar slowly opened his mouth.

“Yuder.”

“Yes.”

“The information Kanna read yesterday and the records I showed you—was there anything you were particularly curious about?”

Something I was particularly curious about?

The fact that he added “particularly” implied Kishiar thought there might’ve been something unrelated to the main topic that might have caught Yuder’s attention. Was there something like that? Yuder blinked, then shook his head.

“No, nothing in particular.”

Kishiar looked like he’d expected that answer.

“Hm.”

“...Should I have been curious?”

“No. Not necessarily.”

After saying that, Kishiar tilted his head slightly. His gaze was calm and quiet, but it felt like he was carefully watching Yuder, trying not to miss even the slightest reaction.

“What is it? If something’s bothering you, just say it directly.”

“I’ve looked into just about everything I could through others, but there are still questions I can’t answer. I think it’s time to visit the closest related party I’ve been putting off.”

The closest related party he’d been postponing seeing.

The answer came to mind immediately.

“You mean... Helrem.”

“Right.”

They had already gathered the Royal Mage Office’s investigation reports. Even if the data wasn’t perfect, there was enough to understand the incident’s before and after. It was now certain that Yuder’s grandfather became someone completely different after the accident. So was there really anything more worth uncovering from Helrem, if it meant stirring up old wounds?

...Is it really necessary?

Kishiar never did anything without reason.

What am I missing?

Yuder lifted his head—and met the gaze of red eyes that were always gentle, yet held a quietly burning affection, hidden so deep that no one else could perceive it.

Eyes that seemed like they wanted to say something to Yuder but hesitated.

...

The realization struck like lightning.

It’s me.

If there was anything in the world that could cause Kishiar la Orr to hesitate, it could only be Yuder Aile.

“You want to ask Helrem about me? Or... about my parents or family?”

They had already had a similar conversation once, back in Yuder’s hometown. Kishiar had suggested that if they looked into the accident victims, they might learn more about the child—Yuder—and said it would be quicker to ask Helrem. But Yuder had responded: was there really a need to do so?

He had no interest in anyone beyond his grandfather. That still hadn’t changed.

But if Kishiar is revisiting this now, despite already hearing that...

Kishiar spoke.

“You once wondered why the person who became Melach Cantinto after the accident—your grandfather—chose to raise a child. In a state where his memories and identity weren’t intact, he could’ve just left you in the village and walked away. But he didn’t. It’s a strange choice to make if it was merely out of a sense of duty. And if he truly was a Great Mage who threw away everything for the future, then the mystery deepens.”

“...”

“The location where he raised you is also telling. Maybe he simply chose a remote place to avoid others due to his identity. But... maybe there was a reason he didn’t leave the mountain range. Maybe he thought he had to hide the child—from attention, or from something else.”

“...”

“If we want to know who he was, what he thought, what his purpose was, then we’ll inevitably need to learn more about you, too. I know you’ve said you don’t want to... but if we’re to go any further, we can’t avoid it.”

After saying that, Kishiar slowly relaxed his brow.

“...Maybe I’ve said too much.”

He gently brushed Yuder’s cheek. Only then did Yuder realize how tense he’d become without meaning to.

What am I doing... I’m not a child.

That his grandfather loved him—Kanna ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) had been able to read that clearly. So it wasn’t as if this conversation came as some shocking blow. Intellectually, Yuder understood everything Kishiar had said.

The reason Yuder himself hadn’t thought of these things first was... because every time he started to, he felt a strange discomfort, a resistance he couldn’t explain.

He wanted to know more about his grandfather. But he didn’t want to know about himself.

What was the source of that discomfort? Yuder began digging into the root of the resistance within himself.

It was silly, but maybe...

“...I’m really quite satisfied with my life right now.”

Yuder placed his hand atop Kishiar’s, which was still resting on his cheek. The words spilled out unprompted, but Kishiar didn’t ask what he meant.

“I don’t have a family. I’m alone. But I’ve never felt like anything was missing. And the thought that digging into who I am might reveal things I’d have been better off not knowing... that’s why I’ve been hesitant.”

Kishiar gently pressed his lips to the back of Yuder’s hand, as if to say that everything was fine—that this wasn’t a sign of weakness, and there was nothing strange about it at all.

Even without words, that small gesture ignited something in Yuder’s heart. He briefly recalled all the pain he had endured to reach this point. Every moment he’d fought not to get close to Kishiar, not to fall for him—back then, his resistance had been even stronger than this.

But now?

Now, when he thought of the moments he had accepted the very changes he once fought, he realized he was glad. When he thought of how different he had become—and how that no longer made him anxious, but peaceful—his heart grew still.

Yes. Maybe this resistance he felt now would one day seem foolish in hindsight.

And even if it didn’t—

As long as you’re here...

There stood a man who, out of fear of hurting Yuder, hadn’t even voiced the theories he’d already formed. Only now did Yuder fully understand the meaning of the “comfort” Kishiar had given him the night before.

If Kishiar was by his side—what more could he fear?

As long as the bond between them remained—a bond even death could not sever—nothing else could hold him more tightly than that.

...

Yuder leaned into the large hand cradling his cheek and stood on his toes. He kissed him briefly.

And with that, his heart became steady.

Right. What does it matter, really?

“Go ahead and tell me. I want to hear it.”

“...Changing your mind like this couldn’t have been easy. Are you sure?”

“I still don’t really want to know... but if it’s necessary, I’ll do it. You said that yourself, didn’t you?”

That if he wanted to learn more about his grandfather—his purpose and his thoughts—then he would have to know more about himself too. If that was true, then there was only one path forward.

“So please, tell me what you’ve been thinking. It’s about me, after all, and maybe that’s why I can’t think clearly.”

Only then did Kishiar seem convinced that Yuder had truly made up his mind.

“All right. But if it ever makes you uncomfortable—just say the word and I’ll stop.”

“I doubt that’ll happen, as long as it’s you saying it.”

“...Such undeserved trust. It makes me think I must repay it somehow.”

With a small laugh, he finally began to speak again, a little faster and more at ease than before.

“Do you remember the list of those who died in the Airik Expedition Investigation Group incident—the ones I showed you earlier?”

“Yes.”