SAFBIAN Ch 141

Chapter 141

“It should be about time for the decoction to arrive.”

“……”

Haban muttered as he glanced toward the door.

Still in his fox form, crouching before the box where the chick was kept, Dori flinched at his words.

‘Ugh…’

Seriously, what kind of medicine is delivered three times a day like regular mealtimes? And it was always so bitter, unbearably so.

Dori scrunched up his face. He hadn’t even let a single drop touch his tongue yet, but already the bitterness seemed to well up from his throat. At least—he forced himself to think so—the bitterness wasn’t as strong as the medicine Haewon used to give him in the Imperial Palace.

Of course, he could understand Haban’s fussiness. These past few days, Dori had been sleeping more and more. Whether by chance or not, it had begun after he started having strange dreams.

Perhaps the original narrative was preparing to expel him from the story. Or maybe the original was trying to give some kind of signal. In any case, his body kept growing more languid, and the sharp instincts he once trusted were dulling—it was undeniably strange.

If nothing else, it almost felt like some ironic compensation. In his real world, even when struck with a severe flu, he couldn’t afford even a fever reducer. Yet here, it felt as though he was consuming the equivalent of a lifetime’s supply of medicine.

With no particular reason, Dori fixed his gaze on the chick inside the box. It pressed its little feet onto the thick white rib of a cabbage leaf—left as a snack by Riri—and only pecked at the thin yellow-green edges, the same shade as its own downy feathers.

When Dori slipped a paw through the box, the chick, startled, tossed aside the cabbage it had been eating. Pausing to tilt its head, it soon scurried toward him instead. At last, rubbing its head against the base of his retracted claws, it seemed, despite appearances, almost as though it somehow knew who he really was.

‘My child must be a genius.’

Dori grinned, chuckling in satisfaction. He didn’t notice that, just behind him, Haban was contemplating whether it would be better to get rid of that chick altogether.

Before long, Lady Jang, the court attendant, entered carrying a white porcelain bowl on a tray. Still in his fox form, Dori flattened his ears and tucked his tail away.

Clack. The racket of the tray being set on the desk sounded louder than thunder to him.

“Come here.”

Haban beckoned. Withdrawn to the side, Lady Jang’s smiling eyes grew more indulgent.

“……Kkiing.” (a whimper)

Dori gazed up at Haban with pitiful eyes, trying to win sympathy, but it was useless. The firm, commanding pat on his knee clearly told him to climb up.

How heartless, Haban!

Turning away in a sulk, Dori got up reluctantly, dragging his lush tail weakly across the floor. Haban, instead of waiting for him to climb, scooped him up decisively and set him on his thigh. Dori’s little paws flailed in the air before settling down.

“Kaang.”

The white fox, even tucking in his tail neatly, rubbed himself slyly against him. Golden eyes glittered with hidden intent.

It might have looked like he was being affectionate, but in the next instant, the fox sprang lightly onto the table, scattering white hairs in the air. Haban’s clothes were left dotted with fur.

Grinning with smug satisfaction, Dori began lapping at the bowl.

“Ka, Kaark! Kyak!”

‘What’s wrong with today’s decoction!’

Not only was it bitter, it also reeked with a fishy taste.

“Kaang! Kaang! Kaang, Kaang!”

Dori vented his frustration in cries no human could understand, but he still downed every drop of the concoction. Only then did Haban finally head toward the bathing room.

“I shall take my leave as well, my lord.”

With practiced timing, Lady Jang departed. With a pop! Dori shifted back into human form, gathering up his sleeping robes. He had stubbornly stayed in fox form earlier and was already forced into a bath by Haban.

Now, crawling beneath the covers, Dori closed his eyes, his body warm and lethargic.

…How much time was left to him?

At first, he had only felt bitter resentment. He had barely managed—after all the hardship—to finally live at ease with Haban, and here the original story was already interfering again.

Material things didn’t matter. In truth, if he returned to the real world, there wasn’t even a single person who cared for him. Unlike there, everyone in this fictional imperial palace treated him kindly. He wanted to remain in this story forever.

But…

Last night he dreamed again. This one, too, was different from how the original tale had gone.

‘The first dream was of the Red Fox village burning to ashes…’

The next was of the Elder lying dead.

The one after that…

One by one the dreams continued. And last night, finally, the season itself began to shift.

He exhaled visible mist, standing amidst an icy courtyard in the dead of winter. And yet, right before his eyes, the season rolled backward.

Bare branches like dry firewood sprouted crimson leaves, precariously clinging. The sky, moments before a hazy gray, stretched high and vividly blue. The only thing unchanged was the same chick, tottering to and fro.

At last, he realized the meaning his dreams were trying to convey. Dori woke at dawn with a shock, curling by the wall for a long while even after opening his eyes.

So—I am doomed to die.

No matter what I do, I am destined to die.

It was the moment of that realization.

‘Then all the more reason—to live the rest of my time meaningfully. I may never see Haban again.’

Dori opened his hand, then closed it—then opened it again. Naturally there was nothing in his palm, only emptiness.

It felt like a representation of his situation. From the beginning, he had grasped nothing. Everything he gained in this story was nothing more than a mirage.

‘…Should I tell Haban?’

That he was not the real Dori, but a person from another world. That, should he die, Haban should not grieve.

‘Disappear? Where would I disappear to, you say?’

But recalling Haban’s fury the last time he had hinted—before his abduction—that he might vanish one day, Dori couldn’t bring himself to say it. Perhaps, in fact, the moment he was ejected from the story, Haban—as just a character of this world—would forget him entirely.

While he was sighing, tangled in such thoughts, the door connecting to the bath opened. Through the drifting steam, Haban walked out. His hair had already been dried, and he wore fresh robes.

“Still not asleep?”

Of course, Dori’s place beside him was empty. Extinguishing the last of the lamps, Haban carefully lifted one side of the blanket and lay next to him.

Blinking with drowsy eyes, Dori turned to face him. The warmth of skin brushing against his own was soft and soothing.

“…Haban.”

“Yes.”

Dori’s voice, husky with sleep, came faint and low. As when in fox form, he pressed his head against Haban’s chest. From his white hair wafted a subtle, sweet fragrance.

Haban buried his nose in Dori’s crown and took in a long breath.

“We’ve stayed here too long. Let’s go back now.”

“If you wish, we can remain longer.”

“No. It’s enough.”

Dori slowly shook his head. His robe was untied, his bare chest pressing against Haban’s skin and catching strands of Dori’s hair.

Tsk.

So much for cooling himself in cold water. With Dori weakened, he had gone out of his way to hold back desire. And yet he could not bring himself to part. Instead, Haban pulled him tighter into his arms.

Though Dori squirmed and protested he could not breathe, once pressed against the heat swelling below Haban’s waist, he went still at last.

“Once we return to the palace, I’ll order your belongings moved at once.”

“My belongings? Why?”

“Because I cannot bear to be apart from you even a moment.”

“…I also want to stay with you, Haban.”

Each time Dori mumbled, his lips brushed bare skin, clinging damply, peeling away with a faint, sticky sound.

“…Huu.”

Setting sparks alight on the body of another. Dori’s voice trailed quieter and quieter until, before long, he was fast asleep, breathing soft and even. Recently, his constant exhaustion worried Haban.

Pulling the blankets straight, Haban bundled Dori securely within them, embracing him wholly in his arms. The solid warmth calmed his heart.

For two days now, the Shadow Assassins had been tracking the trail of Moran. The traces cut off not far from here.

Upon hearing this, Haban immediately summoned the Imperial Guards and personally checked the surroundings with Jipyeong. No suspicious figure—matching Moran—had been seen.

Still ill at ease, he had resolved that they must return to the palace. But from that very day, Dori grew strange. First, he’d fall asleep mid-meal. Then, stumbling and wobbling, he’d collapse onto the floor. At times he confused yesterday with today after waking restlessly past midnight again and again.

In his previous life, such things had never happened.

‘Or… could it be?’

Haban had regained the memories of his past life through dreams. If Dori were undergoing the same process, what was he to do? If he dragged him back to the palace only for memories to emerge and provoke some dangerous collapse… that would be disastrous.

The mere imagination of Dori recalling his past life and leaving him chilled Haban to the bone. If that truly came to pass, he felt the urge more than once—to shatter his lover’s ankles, if only to keep him by his side.

Such thoughts, he knew, should never even arise. Yet his true nature was difficult to suppress; it only burned his insides darker, steeped again and again in killing and violence.

Haban rubbed his eyes wearily.

First things first.

This very night, Seo-hon would lead the Shadow Assassins to the point where Moran’s trace disappeared. They, more mobile and adept at tracking, were preferable to dispatching the Imperial Guards stationed close by.

The remaining troops would maintain their garrison in the mountains and keep guard over the house itself.

How much time remained…?

As he counted the days, Haban’s expression dimmed like gathering nightfall.

Thud! Clatter!

“Ugh!”

Crash!

In the dead of night, sounds of collision and collapse rang out. A strangled scream even pierced the noise.

‘Huh?’

The abrupt uproar jolted Dori awake. Suspicion stirred; he pricked his ears to catch the sounds, but Haban, lying beside him, patted his back reassuringly.

“It’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

“Shouldn’t we check outside?”

Even as he spoke, his face was heavy with drowsiness, nuzzled into Haban’s chest.

Haban pressed a quiet kiss on his pale forehead.

“There are guards outside, aren’t there? They will handle it. You needn’t worry.”

“Well, yes, but… yaawn…”

Dori rubbed his face against Haban’s chest again and quickly sank back into slumber. His hearing, though sharp even in human form, could never compare to when he was a fox.

Haban sighed in relief.

Meanwhile, outside, Jipyeong held shut the mouth of a young eunuch and crouched in silence.