Chapter 43

Though a secret shared with no one, because his memories of his past life were fragmented, he often found himself overtaken by the volatile passions of a raw twenty-year-old. Devising tactical plans on the front lines, commanding troops, and navigating military politics were second nature to him from long practice, yet sudden flashes of temper would flare up unbidden. At times, he would catch himself and reflect that such rashness was behavior he had completely outgrown by eighteen or twenty. It seemed the memories and impulses of his mature years had tangled with the fiery youth of his physical body.

Perhaps that was why he had pushed forward so recklessly today, oblivious to how much his partner struggled under the strain. While he did not belong to the pathetic rabble who popped erections at the mere sight of a Harmonizer, he, too, had once passed through the reckless impetuosity of youth.

“…”

Cha Myeong-joo lay motionless, his body spent and marked by their union. The shallow, labored cadence of his breathing betrayed the severe ordeal he had endured. When Yi-tan had first driven inside, the rush of euphoria and fulfillment had been so overwhelming that coherent thought was impossible. He thought he had regained some semblance of awareness midway through, yet in truth, complete reason had eluded him even then.

“Are you all right?” Yi-tan asked quietly.

Mindful of his spouse and Harmonizer, Yi-tan brought a hot, damp towel between Myeong-joo’s thighs. Startled by the warmth, Cha Myeong-joo flinched and forced his eyes open, looking up at him. His face was as pale as someone who had woken to find himself inside a predator’s cage. The tear tracks glistening on his cheeks were pitiful, yet they brought a faint smile to Yi-tan’s lips—endearing, vulnerable, and sweet. While genuinely contrite that he was the cause of Myeong-joo’s exhaustion, a strange, selfish satisfaction stirred within him.

Seeking to soothe his spouse with gentlemanly decorum, Yi-tan said gently, “Do not tremble so. Once I have cleaned you up, I must depart for the front line.”

“…”

Cha Myeong-joo stared blankly at him without offering a single word, looking for all the world like someone who had only just realized that no vicious beast stalked this room, only Lee Yi-tan.

For some reason, that dazed look weighed upon Yi-tan’s mind. Yet one could hardly interrogate a man so thoroughly exhausted from passion that he could barely keep his heavy eyelids parted. Focusing on the task at hand, Yi-tan meticulously cleaned away the dried and sticky traces of their intimacy from Myeong-joo’s thighs. Having released so much, some of the fluid had not even fully congealed. While that made it easier to wipe clean, Yi-tan found himself overtaken by rare embarrassment.

Good grief, did I truly spend myself this excessively?

If any stranger were to gaze upon this scene, no one could possibly take them for an instructor and his cadet. Who on earth marked the body of a revered mentor with such voracious, unbridled abandon? He had no choice but to feel genuine contrition. Following that train of thought, Yi-tan looked up at him with an apologetic, protective tenderness, entirely unaware that in just a single night, he had adopted the affectionate, deferential gaze of an Aberrant completely enthralled by his Harmonizer spouse.

“Mm…” With a languid yawn, Myeong-joo stretched his heavy arms.

Despite Yi-tan’s inward worry, Cha Myeong-joo—who had looked deathly pale only moments before—yawned long and slow as if nothing untoward had occurred. Even with his legs splayed carelessly across the sheets while his former disciple wiped down his intimate parts, he appeared entirely unbothered. Yi-tan had expected him to startle in mortified alarm the moment he realized he was being attended to, yet Myeong-joo seemed utterly nonchalant.

Considering Myeong-joo’s usual character—which, despite occasional rough edges honed in streetwise necessity, unmistakably reflected the refined breeding of a noble lineage—Yi-tan should have noticed that something was amiss. Yet he failed to catch it, for Myeong-joo’s weary, shadowed visage possessed an arresting, decadent allure that made it impossible to look away. Yi-tan simply assumed the man was profoundly exhausted. Even the languid droop of his shoulders, resembling a blossom wilting after being drenched too long in heavy rain, commanded his attention.

After a moment, Myeong-joo spoke, his voice raspy to the point of cracking, yet holding no hint of darkness. “…That was rather exhausting.”

Relieved by the lighter mood, Yi-tan asked, “Would you like some water, Instructor?”

The self-deprecating humor felt like a welcome breath of fresh air. Myeong-joo nodded, pointing toward the minibar visible through the open bedroom doorway.

“I was too overwhelmed earlier to notice, but is that liquor over there? I would love a drink.”

Turning to look, Yi-tan shook his head with firm disapproval. “That is far too strong. You should drink water or soda. Aren’t you thirsty?”

“Come now, isn’t a wedding a day of celebration? It is my own feast; surely I can enjoy at least that much.”

Propping his torso up with effort, Myeong-joo flashed a genial smile despite his limp, exhausted frame. Like a faded flower, there remained something strangely captivating about him. While his cheerful banter seemed bright on the surface, an inexplicable chill settled over Yi-tan’s heart.

He responded in a more subdued register: “…Only a single glass, then.”

“All right, just one glass. It has been quite some time since I enjoyed expensive liquor.”

Groaning softly, Myeong-joo patted at his aching lower back, nodding to himself with a wry grimace as he let out a chuckle.

Despite the man’s entirely ordinary demeanor, an elusive unease kept Yi-tan rooted in place, staring at him instead of fetching the drink. Sensing the hesitation, Myeong-joo looked back as if prompting him, his eyes asking why he had not already gone.

Yi-tan had no choice but to rise. Heading into the living room, he poured just enough whisky into two crystal tumblers to cover the base. Returning with the two glasses, he handed one to Myeong-joo. All things considered, it had been a very long time since he had clinked glasses with him like this.

How had it been in the life before the time reversal? Surprisingly, Myeong-joo had enjoyed a drink, and Yi-tan seemed to recall nagging him about it often. Yet on quiet weekends or peaceful evenings, they had occasionally sat together to share a casual drink. That warm, nostalgic affection had to be why this moment felt so welcome.

Settling beside him, Yi-tan proposed, “As you said, Instructor, it is our wedding night—shall we have a toast?”

“Splendid. Since ancient times, marriage has always been an alliance. Today, our alliance has been successfully forged,” Myeong-joo replied without hesitation.

An alliance… Yi-tan rolled the word over his tongue. That was precisely what he had sought, yet strangely, he felt no desire to agree with the phrasing.

Well, surely they could weave into that alliance the deep, unspoken comradeship they had shared before the reversal. The Cha Myeong-joo that Yi-tan knew had never once withdrawn his affection. That held true even now, following the turn of time. He could tell simply by looking into those eyes: only Cha Myeong-joo truly worried over and pitied the monstrously powerful Aberrant known as Lee Yi-tan. Therefore, this marriage would surely gift him a warm, joyful home. It would make him an Aberrant with a Harmonizer to return to.

“Then, before we drink, it might be an exaggeration to call it a toast, but may I add a few words?”

“Of course,” Yi-tan answered with a bright smile.

Many pleasing things had occurred today. Though his mood had soured in the morning when that demonic beast approached his instructor, he understood why it had happened. The harmonization he had just experienced from Cha Myeong-joo was dazzlingly magnificent; it was only natural that the demonic fiend had caught scent of it and drawn near. The beast had starved for a long while, and Yi-tan had failed to appease it effectively.

Moreover, the spectacle that beast had revealed had delivered a fresh, unexpected shock. Seeing Myeong-joo drenched in the demon’s fluids had felt uncomfortably like peeking into a respected mentor’s intimate secrets, yet he had found it impossible to tear his eyes away. That vivid image had left a heavy heat pooling in his lower belly all day long, refusing to fade from memory. The same had been true during the ceremony. It had felt like a startling realization that the man standing beside him could become the object of such intense physical desire. Perhaps it was because he had never before seen this man—so fastidious and composed even after losing his sight—thrown into such disheveled disarray. Watching Myeong-joo pale in terror that Yi-tan might misinterpret what occurred had been another intriguing quirk born of chance.

Being able to hold the wedding on time despite the interference of that beast, coupled with the long-awaited dispatch from the front, had made today remarkably auspicious. Yet above all else, the most exhilarating and hopeful revelation was Cha Myeong-joo’s miraculous harmonization capability.

Truthfully, when Yi-tan had stepped into this suite arranged as their bridal chamber, he had never imagined it would be this extraordinary. The surging harmonization energy felt during their kiss had been no illusion. Even an ordinary output would have sufficed, but this was transcendent. Had he known Cha Myeong-joo harbored something so sublime deep within, he would have expedited this union much sooner.

Thus, he looked forward to whatever words Myeong-joo wished to add to their toast. Imagining all that married life with him would bring naturally buoyed his spirits. After all, Lee Yi-tan’s present reality was that of a youthful Aberrant who had just come of age, a chronic patient starved of harmonization.

Presently, Cha Myeong-joo held out his glass. Traces of their intimacy had not been entirely wiped away, and Myeong-joo carried Yi-tan’s potent scent heavy upon his skin. Yi-tan took deep, unthinking satisfaction in that reality.

A handsome, easy smile graced Myeong-joo’s bloodless face. Though pallid from exhaustion, he remained a remarkably striking man—the face of the Harmonizer who, from this day forward, was Lee Yi-tan’s husband.

“May we have a happy…” Myeong-joo paused, smiling. “…life together.”

“…”

They were heartwarming words. Feeling his gaze soften with affection, Yi-tan moved to clink his glass against Myeong-joo’s. But Cha Myeong-joo spoke once more, his next words cutting in just ahead of the chime.

“And may even our end be beautiful, if possible.”

Yi-tan chuckled. “The end? We were married today. How can you be talking about an ending already?”

Laughing as though he had heard a funny joke, Yi-tan clinked his glass against Cha Myeong-joo’s. Myeong-joo chuckled heartily in response. Looking at him now, Yi-tan noticed a faint dimple in his cheek. Had he ever discovered that dimple in the life before the time reversal? While the memory was hazy, he must have. Since Myeong-joo was his Harmonizer, observing him from the closest vantage was a privilege belonging solely to Lee Yi-tan.

Yi-tan felt exceptionally elated—so much so that despite knowing he had to depart for the front line very soon, he was reluctant to leave the suite. The lingering regret was strangely profound.

As if sensing that reluctance, Myeong-joo smiled with serene warmth despite his obvious weariness. “Have a safe journey, Second Lieutenant. Please take great care.”

“Yes, I shall.”

Lee Yi-tan engraved the gentle command deep into his heart. His instructor returned that look with a tender, fond gaze.

For the sake of his Harmonizer, Yi-tan saw to several thoughtful arrangements. Contacting the front desk, he requested a vehicle to transport Myeong-joo to their future home in Changpyeong-dong come morning, a hearty breakfast to be served once Myeong-joo had rested, and comfortable civilian attire to replace the formal wedding suit before finally taking his leave.

“I will return shortly,” Yi-tan promised.

The reluctance he had assumed to be fleeting ran unexpectedly deep. Realizing that, uncharacteristically, he was stalling the moment of departure, he forced his feet across the carpet toward the foyer. Myeong-joo nodded slowly after him.

The instant the suite door clicked shut behind him, Yi-tan smiled once more.

Cha Myeong-joo’s quaint romanticism—wishing that even their ending might be beautiful—struck him as endearing and sweet. Being seen off in this manner felt remarkably pleasant. Perhaps this was why he had undertaken marriage in the life before the reversal as well.

It was an undeniably refreshing sensation. It felt as though the dead leaves that had accumulated upon his soul throughout repeated lifetimes were rustling away in the wind. His shoulders felt distinctly lighter. Stepping into the elevator with the buoyant stride of someone who had received wholehearted encouragement, he pressed the button for the basement garage where Hee-wan would be waiting.

Reflected in the polished bronze-and-gold doors of the lift, the man was smiling. Fearing that his mischievous aide might tease him by asking if newlywed bliss was truly that sweet, Yi-tan deliberately straightened his expression into a sober mask.

***

Looking back much later, Cha Myeong-joo had never once denied Yi-tan’s scolding of the word end with words like, Indeed, my joke went too far.

Yet Lee Yi-tan was young at times, and youth shared its root with foolishness; he failed entirely to grasp that minute detail—that this was a kind of punishment meted out to one who had lived through three cycles of life.

Who could ever have known?

Myeong-joo dreamed.

While he could not recall the details, an aching pain throughout his body and a profound sorrow remained piercingly vivid. That had to be why, upon waking, he rubbed the inner corners of his eyes to wipe away gathered tears.

He seemed to have wept in his sleep.

***