Chapter 89: The Distance We Choose

“Oh— I thought I heard voices, but it didn’t sound like you, so I figured someone must’ve come by.”

Sung Jiwoo answered Yoo Heero’s question with practiced nonchalance.

“I see.”

Yoo Heero, just as casually, ran his fingers through Jiwoo’s hair. It was still warm from the dryer, pleasantly so.

“You didn’t hear anything specific, did you?”

At this point, it would’ve been easy to let it go—but Yoo Heero pressed just a little deeper. Worried his awkwardness might show, Jiwoo lowered his head.

With the mirror no longer reflecting them properly, neither of them could read the other’s expression.

“I feel like I caught a few words, maybe… Why? Was it something I wasn’t supposed to hear?”

Jiwoo turned the question back on him—asking whether it had been a conversation he wasn’t meant to overhear.

A low chuckle came from behind him.

“Mmm, of course not.”

The voice that had sounded faintly cold earlier softened again. Relieved, Jiwoo lifted his head. In the mirror, Yoo Heero was already looking at him with gentle eyes.

“It really wasn’t anything. Don’t worry about it.”

It didn’t quite add up—not anything, when the conversation had gone on for that long, and Park Sujin’s voice had sounded anything but calm.

“Did you two meet before?”

When he’d first heard them talking from the bathroom, Jiwoo hadn’t planned to ask. If they didn’t intend to tell him, he would’ve let it be.

But Yoo Heero’s sensitivity only made it feel more unsettling.

“If we did, would you ask about it?”

Jiwoo silently looked at him. The silence itself was an answer.

Yoo Heero gave a weak smile.

“Don’t ask.”

“Why?”

“Because if you ask, I won’t have a choice but to answer.”

It wasn’t the answer Jiwoo had wanted. His why had meant, Is this something I shouldn’t know?—but Yoo Heero had dodged it.

“…Alright.”

Even so, Jiwoo couldn’t push further. He stepped back.

If it was something Yoo Heero didn’t want to talk about, Jiwoo didn’t want to pry.

After all, he had secrets of his own he couldn’t share either.

I was never the type to care about things like this…

Sung Jiwoo had always been indifferent to how others lived or what they did. Even in life-or-death dungeons, when party members fought each other, he’d simply done his part and walked away—sometimes even abandoning valuable loot just to avoid getting dragged into trouble.

He’d hated being entangled with others that much.

And yet, here he was—curious about Yoo Heero.

Even going out of his way to ask indirectly.

Jiwoo shook his head, brushing the thoughts aside.

“Alright, let’s clean up and sleep.”

As he stood, Yoo Heero followed. Jiwoo yawned widely, exhaustion settling deep into his bones.

Grueling training and pointless tension had pushed him past his limit. It wasn’t even 10 p.m., but he exaggerated his groaning as he flopped onto the bed.

“I’m tired.”

A clear signal that he didn’t intend to bring the topic up again. Yoo Heero smiled faintly at the sight.

“Already sleepy?”

“Yeah… guess I’m getting old.”

It was ridiculous to say at his age, but Jiwoo exaggerated his whining even more.

Yoo Heero lay down beside him, as if he couldn’t argue with that.

“…Come to think of it.”

Jiwoo turned to face him.

“Why do we always sleep in the same bed?”

“…You’re only realizing that now?”

“No, I knew. I just… didn’t consciously think about it.”

On the first night Yoo Heero arrived, they’d argued over who would sleep on the bed—only to end up sharing it. Since then, it had somehow become the natural routine.

At first, it had felt cramped and uncomfortable, and Jiwoo had thought he’d kick him out soon enough. But more urgent things kept happening, and he’d completely forgotten.

“Should we buy a bigger bed?”

“What? No?”

He’d bought the bed to fit perfectly alongside the sofa. If it were any wider, the layout wouldn’t work.

And it wasn’t like he could suddenly kick someone out who’d been sleeping there just fine.

“Is it uncomfortable sleeping with me? Do I move around a lot?”

“No. You sleep like you’re dead. I was shocked the first time I saw it.”

Yoo Heero laughed softly.

“So you were worried? That I might actually be dead?”

“Don’t say something that scary. I said like dead.”

“Then it’s not uncomfortable, right?”

“Well… I guess not. But what about you? Aren’t you uncomfortable?”

“Me? Not at all. I like it. It’s perfect like this.”

The answer came instantly, as if he’d been waiting for the question. Jiwoo hesitated, then spoke.

“You know that house you said you got.”

The smile vanished from Yoo Heero’s face. He sighed quietly.

“Didn’t we finish that conversation earlier?”

Finished was a stretch—they’d only postponed it. Jiwoo shook his head.

“How many rooms does it have?”

“…I don’t know.”

“Where is it?”

“…I don’t know.”

“Is it an apartment? A villa?”

“I said I don’t know.”

It seemed Yoo Heero planned to plead ignorance to the end. Jiwoo narrowed his eyes, trying to read whether he was lying.

Then he casually tossed out a line.

“Really? If it’s spacious, has multiple rooms, and is in a good location, I thought we could move there.”

“…Move what?”

“Our place.”

Yoo Heero blinked slowly. Watching his eyes widen with each blink was oddly entertaining.

Jiwoo had already confirmed that Yoo Heero had no intention of living separately. Why a grown man was so stubborn about it, he didn’t know—but arguing about it would only be more tiresome.

And he didn’t want to fall out with Yoo Heero.

So Jiwoo chose the least troublesome, most peaceful option.

And while showering earlier, something had occurred to him—since Yoo Heero arrived, he’d been handling all the cleaning, laundry, cooking, dishes… everything.

No wonder Jiwoo’s days had felt oddly relaxed lately. Too relaxed, even—so much so that he’d been rolling around with Pilgrim more than usual.

Living with Yoo Heero had been nothing but beneficial for him.

…If anything, the only concern would be whether Yoo Heero was dissatisfied with this arrangement.

That was why he’d asked, just in case.

But having heard directly that Yoo Heero wasn’t uncomfortable and even liked it, Jiwoo had nothing to hesitate over.

He’d already decided to keep living with him for the time being.

If it had felt vaguely ambiguous before, he now fully accepted Yoo Heero as his roommate.

Hunters from the same guild often shared places, after all. Some guilds even ran dormitories—it wasn’t strange at all.

“With Pilgrim and you both here, the shop feels a bit cramped.”

A radiant smile bloomed across Yoo Heero’s face.

“I think I just started liking Pilgrim a little more.”

“What?”

Jiwoo let out a laugh at the sudden comment, but Yoo Heero persisted.

“I think living together, the three of us, sounds nice.”

“What are you even saying… Anyway, yeah. I was asking if the place would work.”

“Yes! Should we start preparing to move tomorrow?”

His enthusiasm caught Jiwoo off guard.

“What? There’s nothing there yet. What move?”

Yoo Heero made a small ah sound and glanced at Jiwoo cautiously.

“…I actually already did everything.”

He buried his face under the blanket. Jiwoo mulled over the words, then let out a blank,

“Huh?”

before pulling the blanket back.

Yoo Heero looked up at him, sheepish.

“I just… bought some furniture and moved it in.”

“Then you were planning to live alone?”

He’d acted earlier like he’d never even thought about it—yet here he was, fully prepared.

At Jiwoo’s puzzled look, Yoo Heero hesitated, then admitted honestly,

“That’s… not it. I bought it to live with you.”

That was absurd in a whole different way.

“So… tomorrow?”

“No. Not tomorrow.”

“…But we are going, right?”

Jiwoo sighed as Yoo Heero stared at him with desperate eyes.

“Next week.”

“Then I’ll prepare the rest.”

“…Fine. Do whatever you want.”

To hell with it. Jiwoo turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He heard rustling as Yoo Heero moved closer.

“If you ever need to meet the guild master, don’t worry about me. Go ahead. I won’t ask.”

“The guild master…?”

“Oh. Knocker’s guild master.”

He’d called him that out of habit—from back when Yoo Heero was an intern—only then remembering that Yoo Heero himself was now the guild master.

“I was almost hurt just now.”

“Hah, yeah. I realized right after I said it.”

They shared a light laugh.

This distance—this atmosphere—felt just right, Jiwoo thought, closing his heavy eyes.

An hour later, when Sung Jiwoo had fallen completely asleep, Yoo Heero turned to face him.

Jiwoo had no idea that Yoo Heero lay awake for a long time, watching him, before finally drifting off near dawn. With careful fingers, Yoo Heero brushed Jiwoo’s cheek.

Warm. Soft.

Jiwoo probably didn’t know it, but his body was even warmer when he slept.

Every time he felt that warmth, Yoo Heero had to restrain himself from pulling him into an embrace. Tonight was no exception.

Listening to Jiwoo’s steady breathing, he finally closed his eyes.

Unaware that any trouble might ever come between them.