Yehyeon looked down at the cake with tired eyes.

“Yeah.”

He half-rose from his seat to blow out the countless candles.

And with a weary breath, he blew.

“Isn’t that too much?”

Jaeyeon scolded him, staring at the two-thirds of candles that still burned.

“There are still this many left!”

“There are too many candles.”

Yehyeon’s voice was drained.

I understood his exhaustion.

I turned to Jaeyeon and said flatly, “Don’t you know there are big candles? One big candle counts for ten years.”

“Are you ignoring the sincerity of someone who counted out seventy-eight one by one?”

Jaeyeon raised an eyebrow and gave me a sharp look.

I was about to answer that yes, it was obvious, when Yehyeon blew out the rest of the candles.

He must have predicted I would say something unkind.

“Good.”

Jaeyeon clapped her hands cheerfully.

“Now, let’s eat roast chicken!”

That fickle creature.

It was hardly surprising. There weren’t many who could tolerate Jaeyeon’s pathological whims. To be exact, only Colton could. I didn’t tolerate them—I endured them.

Kyle and Rei had had enough of Jaeyeon and refused to get involved with Colton.

Colton—young, arrogant, cold, and beautiful.

At times, his potential was suffocating.

The problem was that he only ever used that potential for the wrong things. Not that it mattered anymore. We started eating the roast chicken.

The roast chicken was maddeningly delicious.

Jaeyeon watched us chew with satisfaction.

She tucked a strand of my white hair behind my ear.

“How’s the sunny-side up?”

Damn it, perfect.

She always made things impossibly perfect at times like this. I broke the yolk and dipped a well-toasted piece of bread into it, grumbling, “Perfect.”

“I’m glad.”

Jaeyeon rested her chin in her hand and smiled, genuinely delighted.

Then she turned her gaze toward Yehyeon, who sat beside me, shivering with chills and listlessly poking at his food.

“Do you like the food?”

“Yeah.”

He scooped up some scrambled eggs with his spoon.

“It’s good...”

Maybe I should just knock him unconscious right now.

I tore another piece of chicken, wondering. Maybe it would be best to deal with her while she was still in a good mood, and finally have some peace. The problem was, the instant I raised my hand, Jaeyeon might snap and destroy everything around us.

While I was debating, she held out a gift box to Yehyeon.

“A birthday present.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

It was beautifully wrapped—a red box tied with a green ribbon. Yehyeon took it carefully, like holding a live bomb.

Wouldn’t even be surprised if it exploded the moment he opened it.

As the Commander untied the green ribbon, I tensed, ready to shield him if something went off.

But the box didn’t explode.

“Go on, open it!”

Yehyeon, looking uneasy, took out what seemed to be either a large album or a diary. Jaeyeon slammed the table.

Her eyes glimmered with expectant excitement.

“Go on!”

We all stopped eating to watch.

Yehyeon slowly lifted the cover with his white hands. The cover and a gray leaf page flipped. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a red-inked curse written there, but there wasn’t anything like that.

Instead, there were photographs.

Several pictures of strangers neatly arranged.

I was still wondering what they were when I noticed Yehyeon’s face turning pale.

“They’re the subordinates who served under you.”

Jaeyeon framed her face with her hands and smiled with her long eyes curved.

“So you won’t forget.”

Ah.

Good god.

Those were the ones killed in action.

“You sick bastard.”

I looked away from Yehyeon’s trembling fingers.

Jaeyeon heard my muttered curse and smiled sweetly.

“I’ve got a gift for you, too.”

How considerate.

I glared with disgust and contempt. “How kind of you. Sorry I didn’t prepare anything for you.”

“That’s what makes me so thoughtful.”

She smoothed down her braid with one hand, then reached under the table and lifted a small box.

“Isn’t this what Christmas spirit is about?”

I took the box.

Before untying the blue ribbon, I reached out and closed the album. Thud. As it shut, Yehyeon—who hadn’t been able to take his eyes off it—slowly lifted his head.

I pretended not to notice the wavering look he gave me as I pulled the ribbon loose.

The black box opened.

“Huh?”

The sound slipped out before I could stop it.

No way...

“No way...”

“You were looking for it, weren’t you?”

Jaeyeon smiled—pure white and radiant.

A smile beautiful enough to stop passersby in their tracks.

“You’re really happy, right?”

FROM K.

A game long forgotten in my mind. One I’d sworn I would someday collect and play through. And there it was, right in front of me.

The FROM series—the one I’d found in a game shop with Walker and Shu.

My jaw dropped.

I could feel Yehyeon watching me, lowering his head slightly to read my reaction, but I couldn’t look back.

Jaeyeon chuckled softly and tilted her head.

“That one’s my favorite in the series.” 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Her red-polished nails tapped the small black box.

“I like the message it carries.”

I stared at her, speechless.

My hunger vanished. The resolve to drag this being out of here disappeared too. I could only look at her, lost for words.

No knowing what her true form was, how old she might be, whether she was even human.

Then it happened—the shift. Having sensed that my resolve to drive her away had melted, Jaeyeon suddenly grinned like a sly fox and stood up.

Clatter! The chair scraped loudly across the floor.

She pushed it neatly back under the table and left the cabin.

And that was it—she vanished.

As if she had never been here at all.

Not even a single strand of her bright hair remained.

***

It was long after Jaeyeon disappeared that we came to our senses.

I was the first to recover.

I rose and checked the condition of my pale superior.

“Commander.”

Yehyeon looked up from where he sat, stiff as stone.

“I’ll escort you back to your residence.”

Those large black eyes.

A mix of sorrow and experience that always made it hard to read what he was feeling. He gazed quietly up at me. I didn’t look away until he blinked, finally shaking off the shock.

The emotions washed away.

Yehyeon broke the silence, slowly.

“Question time.”

His white finger pointed at the chair.

“Sit back down.”

It wasn’t a request—it was an order.

Relieved that he wasn’t treating me like a subordinate, I obeyed without protest. The roast chicken wrapped in aluminum foil had gone cold. The latte no longer steamed.

Neither of us touched the food.

Once I was seated, Yehyeon spoke again in his husky voice.

“It’s just the two of us. Feel free to ask anything.”

The Commander’s tone stayed formal.

“I’ll be busy for a while, so it’s better to ask everything now.”

I stayed silent.

To think of the right questions. It wasn’t the time to ask him to drop formal speech. I ran through possibilities quickly, discarding anything someone else could answer. Yehyeon was far too busy for that.

I started with business.

“When we start fighting Titans, I won’t be able to hide that I’m not human.”

“That’s true. As long as the Elders’ existence doesn’t come out, it’s fine.”

He lowered his eyes.

“As long as the fact that the Titans stayed on Earth for a long time, and that the Elders who benefited from them still operate behind the Cores, remains hidden. Of course, it’d be best if no one finds out at all. If they know you’re not human, most will fear and hate you.”

“Traitors never have anywhere to go.”

I gave a short laugh.

“I understand. I’ll do my best to conceal it. But if it looks like I’ll be exposed, I’ll respond as instructed.”

Yehyeon nodded quietly.

Then didn’t move again.

He was still shaken.

Can’t blame him—if someone handed me something like that, I’d be reeling too.

If he didn’t recover soon, I’d have to carry him home myself.

As I studied his pale face, his eyes rolled toward me.

“Anything else?”

I smiled faintly.

“Would it be alright if I asked something personal?”

He looked at me as if wondering what personal thing I could possibly ask.

He unclasped his fingers ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) and leaned slightly forward.

“If you want to.”

“How long do you plan to keep using formal speech with me?”

“If you’re asking personal questions, then I have to keep using it.”

His tone implied why even ask something so obvious?

I chuckled softly.

And looked straight at him—the unlucky child who inherited my sword.

“Lee Seunghyun didn’t celebrate your birthday much, did he?”

Yehyeon’s eyes widened.

For an instant, he turned back into a wounded child. Pain and sorrow from his father flickered in those dark eyes before fading.

That reaction said enough.

I had already guessed plenty when I heard Lee Seunghyun’s name from his lips that day. But that single fleeting expression told me even more. I watched him, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

“Did you ever get a birthday gift from Lee Seunghyun?”

Yehyeon stared at me.

Then, after a long moment, slowly shook his head.

It was the answer I expected, but a rush of anger still welled up, and I smiled while cursing.

“That bastard.”

“...Still, I survived the war thanks to him.”

“Did he ever hit you?”

“...If I didn’t resist, not really... He was an enhanced-body owner, so he never completely lost control and beat me senseless....”

So sometimes he hit you even when you didn’t resist.

The unspoken answer was clear. I swallowed the urge to sigh.

The silence that followed was uneasy, but it lingered. There wasn’t anything more to say. I’d asked what I needed to ask. Any further questions would only hurt him.

Just one thing left to do before returning him to the Choi siblings.

When I’d gone to get what I wanted from the furious, broken Lee Seunghyun, I’d worried I was crossing a line.

I looked up at Yehyeon, his lips pressed shut.

After observing him a moment, I stood.

“A birthday gift.”

I walked to the TV and picked up the envelope I’d left there.

Returning to the table, I handed it to Yehyeon, who blinked in confusion.

“Something I got from Lee Seunghyun.”

He gave me a puzzled look.

He reached out without a word, his gesture hesitant and fearful.

I didn’t explain. I simply stood beside him, watching as he slowly opened the envelope and drew out a photograph.

The image revealed its subject.

A white, beautiful woman.

“Sasha.”

I whispered, looking down at Yehyeon’s wide eyes.

“A photo of Sasha.”

His hand trembled.

He snapped his head up, staring at me in shock.

I saw the tears welling in his eyes and gave a faint smile.

As Yun had said, it wouldn’t have been strange if I’d died for that favor—with my neck broken by the strongest man alive. I was lucky to have come back.

“He said you can have it.”

I watched the tears fall, drop after drop.

“Annoying how he says something obvious like it’s a favor.”

Maybe it would help heal a bit of that old wound.

When he reached to catch the photo slipping from his shaking fingers, my arm was caught instead. I let him pull me closer.

He didn’t let go.

Yehyeon clutched my arm tightly, head bowed, crying. The tears pattered down, soaking the cabin floor. His thin body trembled.

A stifled sob.

If he’d been given even the smallest bit of affection back then, he could have been so much happier.

Should’ve at least asked her name, asked her birthday. Regretting that, I let Sasha’s son cry as long as he needed.