I Am the Hero's Immature Younger Brother

“It’s only a play, so there is nothing for you to worry about.”

“It’s fine. I’m not scared. It just feels disgusting, that’s all.”

Peruan’s eyes glittered.

What kind of expression was Ren making right now? Peruan barely managed to suppress the urge to lift his hood and look.

“As soon as the play ends, we will leave. Can you move?”

“Of course.”

“Follow Tom. He will guide you somewhere safe.”

“Got it.”

Ren answered obediently and turned his head. Even though his face was hidden by the hood, Peruan somehow felt as if their eyes had met.

“What about you?”

“I need to collect a few observational records. We’ll only be apart for a moment. Tom will take my place and—”

His voice was so heartrending it sounded like lovers parting.

If I leave him alone, he’s really going to keep going!

Ren cut him off and asked, “You’re telling me to get out first?”

His voice was full of dissatisfaction.

“Are you worried about me?”

The slightly trembling voice carried expectation.

Ren seemed to mutter something, but Peruan could not hear it. With a ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ little curiosity and a little selfishness, Peruan bent his head toward Ren. When he pricked up his ears, he heard a small voice seriously thinking aloud.

“...how do I hit them where it hurts?”

Peruan repeated his words, then burst into laughter.

Ah, his love was no ordinary person. It seemed he wanted to take definite revenge here. Even after going through things that would make anyone else scream in pain, he pretended to be calm. Believed he truly was fine. And on top of that, this young boy was even dreaming of revenge. What was Peruan supposed to do with him?

The way he bit his lip from time to time was unbearably pitiful.

The wounds all over his body. The red marks rising on his cheeks. The scars on his ankles from cutting the ropes himself. Even after being tormented by a chronic illness, he stood so composed, without showing the slightest sign of pain.

So pitiful.

So lovely.

Was even the way he dreamed of revenge instead of escape not terribly romantic?

Peruan wanted to grant every one of Ren’s wishes.

It was a slave caravan. There was no need for mercy.

He decided he would look for an opening and adjust the plan so Ren could carry out some personal retaliation.

Not knowing what Peruan was thinking as he looked at him, Ren plotted how to screw over the slave caravan before escaping.

“Now, then, before we begin the performance, we will present the final item!”

Under the dark, sticky lighting, the ugly slave auction continued without issue.

All sales for the first part ended.

Soon, preparations began for the play called Blood Festival.

Since they had drawn the curtain over the stage and were doing something there, Ren thought they would perform it directly on the stage, but that was not the case.

When the slave merchants touched the magic devices installed along the walls, the walls began to move. The walls shifted in elaborate patterns and, before long, transformed into a deep pit. Some people were guided upward, while Peruan and Ren remained in their seats to watch.

Expectant voices and admiration rang out. The thickly drunken voices and delighted voices really did sound like people who had come to a festival.

“Now. Take my hand. Even if it is fake, there will be a great deal of blood, so it will look hideous. If you’re frightened, close your eyes. I’ll be beside you, so there is no need to worry.”

“It’s fine. I’m not that scared.”

“You’re brave.”

Ren looked up at him with briefly incredulous eyes, then opened his mouth.

“Is this play long?”

“It depends on the adaptation, but I doubt a place like this would stage the formal version, so it likely won’t be very long.”

At Peruan’s words, Ren pressed his lips shut.

‘I feel awful.’

More than a simple matter of “feeling,” it was a matter of his condition. He was sitting in a soft chair, but his muscles tingled and ached. His stomach felt bad, and the tremors he had worked so hard to hold back felt as though they were spreading through his entire body. Cold sweat kept breaking out. His back had already been soaked for a long time.

Without a word, Peruan held Ren’s hand tightly.

As though he knew Ren would get irritated if someone fussed over him, Peruan kept his eyes facing forward.

If he had pried and asked where it hurt, Ren might have failed to control his emotions and screamed at the top of his lungs.

But Peruan asked nothing and simply held his hand tight.

And that... ridiculously enough, steadied him.

What was so special about holding hands?

Ren blinked slowly.

His body’s senses were waking sharply, and irritation pressed in. It made no sense that stabbing nerve pain, that widespread agony, could be eased by one clasped hand.

It felt as though he had taken the medicine the old apothecary made for him. Like the pain was dulling and moving farther away.

Maybe that was why words he would never normally say slipped out.

“When I was hurting.”

Peruan listened closely to the small, whisper-soft voice.

“There was no one to hold my hand like this.”

“...”

His mind felt hazy.

Why was he saying this?

But the more he spoke, the more at ease his heart felt.

“My parents are gone, and my brother was always busy.”

Peruan could not answer. He only wrapped both hands around Ren’s chilled one, trying to warm it.

“My brother is amazing... and he has a kind personality too. He’s a good person. To me... he’s always far away, though.”

“...”

“He’s a good brother to me too.”

Ren could not stop rambling. It was as if the lid on the emotions he had sealed away and pretended not to know was rattling loose, spilling over. It was not something he could stop just because he wanted to. His tongue was moving on its own.

What am I trying to say?

His lips trembled.

Ren moved the hand that had been quietly trapped between Peruan’s and clasped his hand in return. Peruan’s body went rigid with tension. Frail fingers holding heat took hold of his hand. That sensation was something he did not dare put into words.

“I should have asked him to hold my hand.”

“...”

“I didn’t know... something like this could make it better.”

There was no resentment or sadness in his voice.

His quiet voice held a faint smile.

To think that merely holding hands could truly make it better.

“I don’t regret it. I never want to see my brother suffer because of me.”

His voice was faint, as though it might go out at any moment.

Ren’s head turned ever so slightly toward Peruan.

“But you’re all right, aren’t you? You’re a stranger. That’s the charm of strangers...”

Their clasped hands. His hand was much smaller and more delicate.

Peruan, who had been holding Ren’s hand tight, touched his broken fingernails. The cracked, ruined nails.

Those nails clawed at Peruan’s heart.

Even though he did not want to imagine it, the pain Ren must have endured alone, the long hours of agony he must have spent by himself, painted themselves inside his head.

“Why are your nails broken?”

Without the laughter or slickness, Peruan’s voice was lower than Ren had expected.

“To endure the pain. I scratched at the floor...”

Ren laughed quietly and added.

And now I’m holding your hand like this.

“Anytime. I will hold it for you from now on too.”

“...”

Had being ill for so long done something to his mind?

Why was he saying all these things to Peruan?

But this damn mouth of his had no intention of stopping.

Ren pressed his lips tightly together so he would not answer, all right.

Anytime, from now on.

Their connection would end once they left this place.

He wanted to leave strangers as strangers.

Because if they grew close, then in the end, Peruan would grieve his death too.

That would be too cruel.

Ren tried to smile, but his face would not move properly. Only his trembling lips and cheeks felt awkward.

“Why. Why are you crying?”

Who’s crying?

A smooth hand that looked as though it had never suffered, without a single scar, brushed Ren’s cheek.

A hand different from his brother’s or Luman’s.

Ah, it’s wet. These are probably just physiological tears.

Ren wanted to tell him he did not need to suffer, but his throat had closed up tight, and no voice came out.

“Please. Don’t cry.”

His voice was even more desperate than before.

Anyone watching would think they really were lovers. Ren tried to glare at him, but his vision was flickering.

If he passed out here, he would truly become a nuisance.

Ren forced his eyes wide open. His vision was blurry, but not so badly that he could not see. Peruan’s hands, wrapped firmly around his, felt quite reliable. If not for them, he might have screamed and crawled across the floor.

‘Ah, maybe it’s not that bad.’

He could not gauge the degree of pain.

It was hard to tell whether this was pain from his body being abused while he was dragged here and from not taking his medicine on time, or whether it was a warning sign of a seizure.

The old apothecary suddenly felt remarkable all over again.

That’s right. This was the pain he’d been holding back for me.

This is why you shouldn’t get used to things. You forget to be grateful.

Right. Even that medicine was never something I was owed.

His eyelids felt as though they were growing heavier and heavier.

The voice calling Ren from right beside him repeatedly grew distant, then close again. But Ren only felt reassured by the cool hand. Peruan was right beside him... He could feel a grip strong enough that their clasped hands would not come apart.

I need to stay awake. I might get in the way.

“Young master.”

“Tom! Hurry!”

“God. What happened?”

“He has a chronic illness! We need his belongings. Hurry, hurry.”

“I’ll look for the medicine.”

Tom hurriedly rummaged through the belongings he had found.

A magnificent drumbeat boomed. Or maybe it was Ren’s heartbeat. Beating far too fast, far too loudly...

“Can you hear me? Which medicine is it? Please...”

Ah, cool.

It was too dark because of the hood. He wanted to take it off, but his hand was being held... Ren moved his body this way and that. He thought he had moved, but the motion was only slight.

His body trembled at the force gripping his hand tight. Peruan’s grip felt as though it were shrinking the muscles in his arm.

“Young master, there doesn’t seem to be any medicine.”

Tom spoke calmly. No matter how much he searched through the opened baggage, he found nothing that looked like medicine.

“That can’t be. Search again.”

“Yes!”

Had the slave caravan bastards stolen it already? No, it was not money. They would not steal mere medicine. And to avoid being tracked, the belongings of those kidnapped were thoroughly dealt with after the auction ended.

“It must be there. There’s no way someone with a chronic illness wouldn’t carry medicine...”

Would someone who worked so hard to hide his illness not hide the medicine as well?

“Is there any food?”

“There were tea leaves and sweets...”

“Give them to me.”

Peruan cut him off and held out his hand.

Ren’s vision briefly brightened, and he saw sweet bean jelly and tea leaves held out before him.

Along with Peruan’s desperate face.