GB 95

He was wearing his uniform and had his hands in his pockets, looking at the jellyfish.

“You shouldn’t look at that for too long.”

The image was so vivid that Haero momentarily forgot it was an illusion and reached out to stop him.

But the illusion, Yoon Moo-hwa, was still looking at the jellyfish.

‘Look at me. Where are you looking?’

Haero anxiously took a hesitant step forward, and as if hearing the sound, Yoon Moo-hwa turned around.

Though he was close by, he seemed very far away. That’s how Haero could come to his senses. Dreams don’t give such an empty feeling. For him, dreams were a vivid energy that allowed him to wake up early no matter how late he slept, and to study and finish his daily tasks no matter how exhausted he was.

Haero slowly lowered his arm. Yoon Moo-hwa smiled at him and spread his arms, as if inviting Haero to embrace him.

That sight was terribly sad. If this appeared, it meant his dream was of Yoon Moo-hwa affectionately opening his arms to him, and dreams are imaginations of unfulfilled wishes.

“Cut the crap.” Haero muttered through gritted teeth.

“This will become reality. It’s not just a fantasy.” Even as he muttered this, the Yoon Moo-hwa before his eyes remained unchanged.

Haero suddenly lost all affection. That jellyfish truly was a harmful creature. Feeling nauseous, he turned his head away sharply, then looked back at Yoon Moo-hwa.

He was looking at the jellyfish again, as if that was where he belonged.

Haero’s lips trembled. He wanted to ask ‘What dream are you seeing? What do you want to see?’

Even knowing that wasn’t the real Yoon Moo-hwa.

“Hyung…”

Just as Haero called out to him in a very small voice, the basement door opened again, and the driver strode in, speaking loudly to the listless customer.

“The payment, you need to pay, okay? If you don’t pay today, we’re not leaving.”

Despite the shouting, it took a while for the customer to slowly get up and pay. The floor above the jellyfish, the second basement, was one huge safe filled with gold bars, jewels, and cash. Haero unknowingly covered his nose at the unpleasant smell emanating from the money.

* * *

That’s right. He did those things.

Smuggling was inseparable from the existence of pirates. So in a way, Haero had briefly been involved in work related to pirates, and in a way, he had earned money true to his roots, just as the ignorant people’s prejudices suggested.

So Haero didn’t feel any shock or guilt. Yes, he earned money the way he was raised and taught, so what? He didn’t kill anyone or kidnap anyone. He just ran some errands.

What actually upset Haero was the fact that the items brought in at such risk were ultimately depressing and bizarre things that left a bad aftertaste.

Although he made money, the more he continued the work, the more Haero missed Yoon Moo-hwa. He desperately wanted to approach vivid reality. He missed that cold person who had no lingering attachments, no obsessions, and only did his job to the point of indifference.

Even knowing that what he had done was the opposite of Yoon Moo-hwa’s work, even knowing that the path to approach him was actually a path of betraying Yoon Moo-hwa, if it was a shortcut, he couldn’t stop.

The night he saw Yoon Moo-hwa standing on the terrace was one of those days. On his way back from delivering an unidentified, unsettling item.

He wanted to go up right away and take a place beside him, watching the cliché drone show celebrating the new year, but the reason he couldn’t was the same. He wanted to hide it from Yoon Moo-hwa, what he had done.

The extremely proud customers had their own advantages. Because pride was their only fortress, they would never speak about what they had done, what they had ordered, who they had used.

Of course, Haero had no money and couldn’t understand their self-destructive waste of money, but he sympathized with the reason for keeping those secrets.

‘Yoon Moo-hwa doesn’t need to know all of this.’

In truth, he’s secretly ashamed. He doesn’t want to reveal it. He will lock this past in a safe and confine it to an island only he knows. Unlike other treasure islands, opening that chest would reveal these facts he wants to hide instead of treasure, but…

* * *

A thud was heard in the dark captain’s quarters with the windows closed. A groping hand in the darkness finally pressed and turned on a small, crude mood light that looked at least 10 years old. Today, a very soft amethyst-colored wave filled the space.

“Ah. My head hurts.” Haero giggled and whined. 

Yoon Moo-hwa moved while holding Haero’s head buried in his chest. The sight resembled a pair of waddling penguins, but it wasn’t funny at all.

Yoon Moo-hwa’s embrace smelled like fragrant pencil wood. It was calming.

Haero had been feeling a sense of déjà vu from his conversation with his mentor and So Eunpa, as if someone was gently tickling his nose tip while he was taking a short nap. But such feelings were all forgotten when he kissed Yoon Moo-hwa or shared body heat.

It’s strange. Is this because he likes him so much, or because Yoon Moo-hwa is exceptionally good at kissing?

“What are you thinking about?”

Haero, embarrassed by the strand of saliva connecting his blankly open mouth to Yoon Moo-hwa’s smooth lips, mumbled, “I’m thinking that you’re too good at this.”

“Does that make you feel bad?”

Yoon Moo-hwa’s cautious voice. Even that made Haero happy. He must have some strange aspects to him. To feel thrilled when Yoon Moo-hwa is considerate of him. It seems that the feeling of liking someone can make a person both a miserable, shabby being and a strangely twisted eccentric.

Instead of answering, Haero just grinned. He didn’t say it was okay until the end. Yoon Moo-hwa made a subtle expression of being sorry yet embarrassed. Haero was helplessly excited by that expression he quite liked.

“Yeah. I feel bad. But since there’s nothing we can do about you being born earlier than me, like I said before, don’t even dream of meeting anyone else after me.”

It was Yoon Moo-hwa who had said he wouldn’t let Haero meet anyone else afterward. That was the happiest thing Haero had ever heard from him. It didn’t matter how sincere he was. Even if those words weren’t sincere and were a lie told for his sake. Because he himself would make sure Yoon Moo-hwa couldn’t meet anyone else afterward.

“As you can see from how I chased you all the way here, I’m quite obsessive. You’ve gotten yourself in trouble.” Haero said confidently, wearing the most mischievous smile he could muster.

Looking down at the grinning Haero with a subtle expression, Yoon Moo-hwa responded in a gentle tone, “Is that so? How terrifying. I should be careful.”

Haero prided himself on this being a start to a relationship that wasn’t too cowardly. After all, he had given a warning in advance.

“What’s that?”

Staring intently at Yoon Moo-hwa without averting his gaze once, as if to prove his declaration, Haero noticed the pupil of his artificial eye slightly constricted and then returned to normal. 

Like a camera aperture.

“Just now, your eye was strange.”

He only knew very general things about artificial bodies. Especially for military artificial bodies, because various updates and functions were introduced according to individual needs, it was impossible to know the specific characteristics in detail. Other than knowing that they cause discomfort according to certain confidentiality methods depending on the modification grade.

“Are you in pain?”

Yoon Moo-hwa blinked his left eye while looking at Haero, who was holding onto him with worried eyes. Just enough for him to know, another photo of Haero was saved, just like a moment ago.

“No. I think something got in my eye. You know we can’t leave the ship today, right? We’ll only be doing provisioning work. You stay quietly in the medical bay.”

After saying this casually, he checked the time and pushed Haero’s back. It was time to end their private moment and return to their official relationship. 

Haero lightly raised and lowered his shoulders as if warming up. He felt a bit regretful about returning to their roles as brigadier general captain and lieutenant medical officer, but he also liked it. Every day was a time of self-proof for Haero. Just the fact that he was fulfilling his role, and doing so in front of Yoon Moo-hwa, made Haero very happy.

As long as he was on Yoon Moo-hwa’s ship, as long as their relationship didn’t change, he probably wouldn’t feel depressed due to long-term operations or voyages. Probably.

Haero left the captain’s quarters with light steps, skillfully hiding here and there before reappearing and naturally blending in among the crew members.

The deck was busy drawing water from the temporary base that had been repeatedly destroyed and rebuilt. Today’s task was ‘shopping’* to maintain the ship’s condition by cleaning it with seawater.

While connecting the thick fire hoses, someone wearing the same type of shoulder boards and hand insignia as Yoon Moo-hwa was boarding through the gangway. As Haero was about to pass by, glancing at what seemed to be his adjutant explaining to the gangway duty officer which ship they were from and who they were, the person with the brigadier general’s hand insignia spotted Haero and raised his hand high.

“Hey, I can see you all from here!”

The timing of his raised hand coincided with Haero’s glance in that direction, so there was no need to call out twice.

When he lifted his cap slightly, removing the shade, beneath it were Alyosha’s striking features, slightly tanned.