I Am the Hero's Immature Younger Brother

“N-no, that’s not it... brother...”

“Brother? Do you mean Sir Temar?”

“No, I mean—what the hell is he doing...?”

Ren finally managed to get the words out, trying to steady his shaking breath. It felt like his heart had dropped out of his chest.

Because Temar was staring straight at him with his eyes wide open.

No warning, no movement—just those eyes suddenly open and locked onto him. Even if it was his brother, even if it was Temar, there was no way he wouldn’t freak out. Ren felt like all the strength had drained out of his legs.

“Brother?”

That relentless gaze dragged over him like it was going to swallow him whole. It almost hurt.

“...Ren.”

Temar answered after a long pause.

Jepeto, who had been looking back and forth between Ren’s face and the back of Temar’s head, let out a strangled noise—“Gkrrgh”—and crawled right back onto the bed.

“No, seriously, why are your eyes like that...? You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry. Where are you going?”

Temar frowned, grabbing his head. Probably a hangover. His movements looked slower than usual. His eyes were a little unfocused too.

“Brother! Does your head hurt?”

“...Yeah.”

Ren shot to his feet and hurried over to Temar’s bed. Not knowing what to do, he fussed over him, touching his face.

“What do we do? People drink honey water or something for this, right? Brother, wait—I’ll go get some!”

“Ren.”

“Huh—ugh!”

Temar grabbed him mid-step, and Ren, who’d been trying to stand, toppled straight onto the bed.

Flop.

Falling sideways, Ren found himself face-to-face with Temar’s solid chest.

Temar let go of the arm he’d used to pull him in and started stroking his hair.

“Brother?”

Ren swallowed.

What is this... why’s he being so nice...? What the hell is this since yesterday? Long live alcohol. Long live hangovers.

When Ren just sat there awkwardly, Temar gently patted the back of his round head.

“Ren......”

Blinking slowly, Temar drifted right back to sleep.

Staring at his thick brows, his high nose, the full shape of his face, Ren broke into a crooked grin.

“Damn, my brother’s handsome.”

'Ahhh, this feels so good!'

Ren suddenly felt like running laps. His heart was pounding in a good way, thump thump. He squirmed closer and burrowed into Temar’s arms, pressing himself against him.

“You smell good.”

It felt warm. Safe.

Having his brother right there beside him made him feel steady and happy in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Actually, for the past year since Temar had come back, it had mostly been like this.

Sure, Ren would wake up at dawn, anxious, pacing outside Temar’s room because he never knew when he might leave again... but still. When Temar said goodnight and he lay down, or on the nights thunder scared him and he went to sleep beside him, those thick arms would pat him gently and tell him it was okay.

And then nothing in the world felt scary.

Not the thunder. Not even the illness that had tormented him for so long.

'Ah...'

His chest tightened for no reason.

Because he knew this wouldn’t last forever.

He had his illness—that problem he would never solve. Which meant he had to prepare for goodbye...

Ren’s eyes stung red. Thankfully, the tears didn’t fall. He bit down hard on his lip.

No. It’s fine. I decided to think of this as a farewell trip.

His heart pounded again—this time not in a good way. A nervous tremor.

Ren pressed a hand to his chest and pleaded silently.

'Please. Just hold out a little longer.'

'He’s going to the capital anyway. He’ll leave again for missions. So just until then. Just until he leaves.'

'Let me take just this small memory with me... as I head toward dying.'

Ren begged desperately.

He forgot all about going outside. Instead, he burrowed deeper into Temar’s arms, wrapping his arms around his waist.

The sound of Temar’s heartbeat felt like a lullaby.

It was so comfortable his eyes started to droop.

—

The day Luman had brought the Hero Summons Order, they had fought—but in the village, Ren and Temar had been quite affectionate with each other.

Temar hugged him often. Ren clung to him just as often.

Whenever Temar ran off to help the villagers and came back late, Ren would throw every kind of tantrum imaginable, and Temar would just smile, apologize, and take all of it.

In front of others, he would scold Ren for being rude—but he also stopped the villagers from scolding him. Of course, he always apologized first, then scolded Ren in front of everyone anyway.

Even when Ren, furious, rammed his head into him, when they were alone, Temar would just soothe him.

He was strict—but gentle. And he always tried to talk to him.

...Come to think of it, though.

Brother, you barely talked on the road. You were way stricter too. Is that just because it’s a mission?

The thought hit him out of nowhere, something he hadn’t had time to think about while being dragged along the journey.

If that’s how he is on missions... will he stay like that in the capital too?

If Luman hadn’t been there, talking to him along the way, Ren would’ve probably gone crazy thinking about it from the very start of the trip.

Maybe I should ask him later... if missions make him more on edge.

'I don’t really know anything about him.'

To shake off the bitter feeling, Ren thought back on the past year.

At least that version of Temar—he knew that one well.

Temar ate anything Ren made, saying it was good no matter what. He liked even Ren’s clumsy sewing. He cooked for him often, took on all the hard work himself.

He hadn’t always been there—but that didn’t mean he’d never been there.

Ren decided that even just that one year was something to be grateful for.

No matter how much he cried or threw fits, time wasn’t going to wait for him.

Better to appreciate it. Make it worth something.

I said I hated it—that you’re a Hero. That I hate you helping the villagers so much...

...but it’s not like I only hate it.

He was proud of him too.

It felt good hearing the villagers praise him.

Even if it pissed him off, thinking they were just using him.

He’d snap and yell—and then his lips would twitch.

Of course, he never said any of that to Temar. If he did, Temar would just help people even more.

Even though he hated it, this much, seeing people look for Temar made him proud... and the more proud he felt, the more he hated it.

What kind of feeling is that supposed to be?

Ren genuinely didn’t know.

He really, really hated it—and yet part of him liked it.

Maybe he really was as twisted as the villagers said.

Come to think of it, Coco had told him that too.

To try being a little softer. If he kept snapping at everyone who provoked him, he’d definitely get hurt someday.

Ren had wanted to snap back at her to mind her own business—but when he saw the concern on her face, he swallowed the words.

Why am I thinking about that now...?

As sleep slowly took him, Ren decided he’d try to listen to Coco.

Then... when he woke up...

maybe he’d apologize to Tommy first.

Say he was sorry for knocking his arm away. That it was an accident.

Would Tommy accept it? What if he thought Ren did it on purpose?

No—Tommy hadn’t even looked upset at the time. He’d actually smiled.

Still... a mistake was a mistake. He should apologize...

Ren drifted off in complete comfort.

His soft breathing brushed against Temar’s chest. The tension had melted from his face. Long lashes cast shadows over his cheeks. His hair fell messily, exposing his small, clean forehead.

His thin fingers—too strong for how small they were—clutched tightly at Temar’s clothes.

Temar’s eyes slowly opened.

***

It was a nightmare.

He blinked slowly.

Ever since that day in the cavern, Temar had started having dreams from time to time.

Some showed things that had actually happened.

Others showed the worst things he could imagine.

The worst one...

was the dream where he threw flowers at Shawn’s funeral.

Shawn should have been lying in the coffin—but when it became Temar’s turn, it turned into Ren instead.

Just now, it had been a similar dream.

Ren had gotten up at dawn, saying he was following a song, and never came back.

When Temar went out to look ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ for him, he found himself back at Shawn’s funeral.

And the name on the coffin had changed to Ren’s.

Temar bit down on his cheek.

It’s bullshit.

Just a damn nightmare.

He’s right here.

He’d been so startled earlier.

When he saw Ren about to leave, Temar couldn’t move, like he was paralyzed. All he could do was stare at him with wide eyes.

Only after Ren screamed and collapsed, then came back toward him and hesitantly sat down, did his body finally start to move.

He’d barely managed to grab Ren with an arm that wouldn’t respond—and only then realized he’d been holding his breath the whole time.

His heart had been pounding hard enough to shake his body.

“Ren.”

He finally managed to say his name and closed his eyes, slowly steadying his breathing.

“Damn, my brother’s handsome.”

Ren’s voice, grinning, brushed against him.

“You smell good.”

Ren wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing close. He smelled warm—soft—like something you’d only ever smell on a baby.

Ren. My little brother.

Temar repeated it silently.

'It’s going to be dangerous.'

Luman’s voice surfaced in his mind.

When has it ever not been?

Temar would protect Ren.

Just like he had protected the kingdom. Just like he had saved the princess.

He would protect him.

He looked down at Ren’s pale face.

He’s right here. So why those dreams?

A crack ran through his rock-solid expression.

His trembling eyes traced over Ren’s sleeping face, taking in every detail.

The slightly parted lips. The quiet breathing slipping out between them. The soft arch of his brows. The faint upward tilt of his eyes. The messy blond hair. The clean forehead...

'I’ll protect you. Dreams are just dreams.'

Temar’s breath brushed against Ren’s forehead.

Feeling the warmth pressing into his chest, Temar slowly fell asleep again. The stiffness left his body, and even his lips softened.

—

Creak.

The sound of the lock turning.

The one who entered was Luman.

After running a full circuit of the village, he opened the door—and froze.

In his sight were Ren and Temar, asleep, tangled together.

Temar’s thick arm was wrapped around Ren, who had burrowed into his chest.

Ren was still wearing his robe, like he’d been about to go out. In his hand, faintly visible, was the toy Tommy had given him yesterday.

“Too late.”

He clicked his tongue.

Knew he’d come out to play with that.

Should’ve just asked him to go together instead of waiting.

Luman hesitated for a moment, then scoffed at himself.

What kind of bastard interrupts something like this?

Quietly, he closed the door and sat down on the bed beside them.