By Zephyria 
“I will make preparations so that you can arrive in Hanyang in time for the Fate Festival.”
“I told you, I’m not going.”
“Please go with Gil-sang, Dong-ja Noonim, and Brother Man-soo. I will stay behind and guard the garrison.”
“Ha… Fuck, why do you even ask when you’re just going to do whatever the hell you want?”
“I will take reports on the recruits who are worth my time, and as for the rest, I’ll give them a bit of food and send them on their way.”
Regardless of Tae-muk’s reaction, Byeonguk continued to speak his piece with utmost politeness. Tae-muk let out another scoff at the neat, disciplined tone of his voice. Then, lighting a cigarette, he spoke.
“Just become the captain of the Crimson Rain Brigade yourself.”
It was a passing comment, but Byeonguk’s expressionless face softened.
“…Please do not say such things. The captain of the Crimson Rain Brigade is the Captain.”
“…….”
“From the beginning, until the end.”
“…….”
Tae-muk took several long, deep drags of the lit cigarette. He held the smoke in his lungs for a moment before slowly exhaling and asking.
“Fine, the beginning is one thing, but what do you mean by the end?”
“When the Devouring Ghouls are gone, it will be the end. At that time, neither the Crimson Rain Brigade nor soldiers will be necessary, so wouldn’t that be the end?”
“You think a day like that will actually come?”
“The Lieutenant Colonel said so. He said that you would save the country, Captain.”
At those words, Tae-muk gave a short laugh and put the cigarette back in his mouth.
“How long ago was that…”
The Lieutenant Colonel… Come to think of it, that old man used to say things like ‘save the country’ or ‘you can do it’ all the time. Recalling his face after so long suddenly made the cigarette taste bitter. Just like the first time he had given him a cigarette to smoke.
Watching Tae-muk’s black pupils slowly cloud over, Byeonguk bowed.
“I shall take my leave now. Please rest.”
Tae-muk didn’t bother to answer or see him out. Once Byeonguk left, Tae-muk remained alone in the military tent, which was less spacious and more desolate.
He smoked slowly, occasionally coughing up blood. When the cigarette became too short to hold, he stared into the darkness huddled in the corner and thought.
“Bondmate….”
A Bondmate…
In truth, though he pretended not to care and acted as if he were fine, Tae-muk had imagined his own Bondmate. In fact, quite often. They were said to be a pair matched by the heavens themselves; how could he not be curious?
Moreover, since Byeonguk, Gil-sang, and Dong-ja all had Bondmates, he felt more anxious and curious because he was the only one without one.
He had heard that a Bondmate was something truly extraordinary, far surpassing the senses and emotions humans could normally share. Having never felt even a glimpse of it, Tae-muk couldn’t even guess what it was like. Well, if it were a being that could instantly erase this fucking pain, it would be quite fascinating…
“Bondmate….”
Tae-muk exhaled the smoke and narrowed his eyes. What would his Bondmate look like? A man or a woman? How old? What on earth were they doing that they hadn’t appeared yet?
…Nothing bad is happening, right? Like being threatened by a Devouring Ghoul, or being bullied by some nobleman.
That aside, would they be happy to be his Bondmate? They might hate it. Since he spent so much time in particularly harsh and gruesome places. They would end up seeing many sights not meant for eyes. He worried they might go mad. It happened often for people to lose their minds on the battlefield.
After various imaginings, Tae-muk let out a self-deprecating chuckle.
“Like an idiot….”
Expecting something again.
He wouldn’t meet them this time either. His Bondmate must have died long ago, or perhaps had never been born into this world. Even if they miraculously appeared, they would surely die shortly after.
His father, his mother, the Lieutenant Colonel—everyone who had stayed by his side had died.
Then perhaps it would be better not to meet at all.
Having thought that far, Tae-muk crushed the short cigarette out with his fingertips. He felt a sharp sting of pain.
* * *
Tae-muk arrived at the hall where the Fate Festival was held just as the sunset was fading. And as he stood before the doors of the hall, ridiculously, he felt expectation again. This meaningless Fate Festival was already its nineteenth time, and he was disgusted with himself for acting this way every single time.
Had he suddenly decided he no longer wanted to die?
No, that wasn’t the reason.
Tae-muk felt he simply wanted to meet someone. Using the grand meaning of a pair matched by the heavens, he wanted someone to call his own. Someone entirely his, regardless of the country, the Devouring Ghouls, the unit, or being a soldier.
And so, entering the hall and brushing fingertips with numerous Bondmates, he was disappointed once more. He thought, Not this time either.
Beyond irritation, anger surged within him. He felt the time spent rushing here was a waste, he felt disgusted by his own expectations, and he felt like snapping his own neck with his own hands.
However, a silk sleeve caught his eye. In truth, it had been catching his eye for a while. He was the kind of presence that was impossible to ignore.
Dressed in bright silk clothes, he stood neatly with his hair tied by a fine hair tie, flowing long. His posture and appearance seemed to scream with his entire being: I am a nobleman, I was raised in luxury, my breed is different from yours.
“…….”
Even as his fingertips brushed against other Bondmates, Tae-muk’s attention was entirely focused on him. At the time, he thought it was because it was strange to see a nobleman standing there, but thinking back now, Tae-muk believes he felt it instinctively. That he and that man shared a connection that was not ordinary.
Regardless, at the time, he was simply curious. It was the first time he had seen a nobleman at any of the nineteen Fate Festivals. So he was puzzled, and also… disgusted.
He wondered who the man had come all this way to bully or kill. He had a face that looked as if he had never uttered a bad word in his life, but well, noblemen were all like that. They looked pretty, but their words and actions were often worse than those of a Devouring Ghoul.
In particular, the silk hair tie he wore was irritating. More than irritating, it made his skull ache. It reminded him of the Young Master who had cut his mother’s wrist and fled with a silk hair tie fluttering in the wind. He wanted to tear that thing to shreds, drop it on the floor, and trample it until sunset.
And finally, when he stood before him.
“Um… you must hold my hand.”
He spoke in a soft voice. The voice, pure and without a single speck of noise, made the skin on the edges of Tae-muk’s ears crawl. It was clearly a human voice, but it didn’t feel human. It felt as if he had heard something he wasn’t supposed to hear. How should he put it? Like eavesdropping on the whispers of high beings who live above the clouds.
Then, a white hand was extended toward Tae-muk.
“…….”
The hand, white and without a single scar, looked as if it had never done a day’s hard work, nor had it ever poured a single glass of water for itself. It was small, slender, and the nails were neat. The fingertips had a subtle pink hue, as if they had touched flowers.
Tae-muk had never seen such a beautiful hand in his life.
And that made him annoyed. How could a hand be that beautiful? It was only because he had grown up being treated as precious and cherished. A twisted desire surged within him to cut that wrist, just as the Lord Dae-gam had done to his mother.
Of course, he didn’t act on it. Since he surely wouldn’t be his Bondmate. No matter how cruel the heavens were, they wouldn’t have paired him with a nobleman.
But the moment his fingertips brushed against the other’s hand.
“…….”
A bolt of lightning struck Tae-muk’s world. It felt as if the heavens and earth were shaking and swapping places. Simultaneously, strength surged, and his mind cleared. It was merely a moment, a fleeting touch, but the large and small balls of fire flowing through his veins were instantly cooled as if hit by cold water. Flowers bloomed in a throat that had been filled only with the scent of blood.
There was no room for doubt.
This nobleman was Tae-muk’s Bondmate. The pair matched by the heavens. The only pair in a lifetime.
Realizing this fact, Tae-muk was enraged. He could not believe that his Bondmate was a nobleman.
The Young Master who had fed him fodder, the Lord Dae-gam who had cut his mother’s wrist, the Colonel who had given him a fake rank while he rolled through battlefields for ten years, and the other noblemen who made people farm inside the maws of Devouring Ghouls and locked the doors to prevent lowborns from entering shelters—to think such a person was his Bondmate. He couldn’t help but be furious.
So he thought. Before the man could bully him again, this time he would be the one to trample him, the nobleman. He would never eat fodder again.
He had been so foolish, not knowing what kind of presence the man would eventually take root as in his life.
* * *
When Tae-muk’s story ended, the whole world was bright. Feeling the sunlight tapping his cheek, Tae-muk blinked slowly and bent his waist. Then, he pressed soft kisses against the nape of Ho-eun, whom he was holding in his arms.
“It would have been a disaster if Byeonguk hadn’t listened and I hadn’t gone to the Fate Festival.”
“…….”
“Because I might have missed the most precious and most beautiful Bondmate in the world.”
Tae-muk furrowed his brow deeply and then relaxed it, as if the mere thought was dizzying. Then, as he looked at Ho-eun in his arms, he gave a faint smile, moved by the moment.
“Hng….”
For some reason, Ho-eun’s breathing sounded wet. His head, buried deep in Tae-muk’s chest, was trembling with spasms. At this, Tae-muk carefully lifted Ho-eun’s chin. Sure enough, his delicate face was completely drenched in tears. His eyes and cheeks were even flushed red with heat. Tae-muk’s eyebrows immediately knit together.
“Why are you crying again?”