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one.
After being summoned by Headon, Khun began his ascent through the Tower.
During his first floor test, fate made him encounter a boy with eyes made of gold, ancient treasures coming alive in his innocent gaze. Not even the Black March in his trembling hands could compare, and Khun found himself wanting to stay by his side, wanting to pull his hand and guide him up.
But those golden eyes were focused somewhere else, far away from the place where Khun stood right next to him.
It stirred something in Khun—something he had never felt before. He thought it was some sense of foreboding, attributed it to the silent understanding of someone who had loved and lost while younger than most.
One day, Khun would tear his gaze away from the source, taking him up the Tower and leaving everyone else behind.
But instead, it was the same fate that snatched such an invaluable jewel from his hands, because history always repeats itself.
two.
Learning that Bam had been alive all along felt like a sudden reprieve from drowning.
Of course Khun was happy—there was no way to deny it. But something bothered him relentlessly, and it was the way Bam's teammates talked about him. Khun was stuck with them after the altercation in the Hand of Arlene, and Wangnan and Ehwa just wouldn't shut up.
"Viole is so strong," Wangnan told him one day, pure admiration swimming in his eyes, hands gesturing excitedly. "When he fights, he's so elegant and graceful."
Shut up , Khun bit back. You don't know the first thing about him.
But it died in his throat, tense and restrained, because he knew that he hadn't seen Bam in over half a decade. In fact, Wangnan had spent longer with him than Khun ever had.
One day, Khun would make up for it, rescuing his most precious friend and bringing him back where he belonged.
But today, it settled in his stomach bitterly, the fact that he had lost all those years, and the fact that someone else had been with him instead.
three.
Getting Bam back was undeniably the proudest moment in his life. They had managed to summon him at the Workshop Battle, and everyone finally reunited to rest at the Wolhaiksong resort.
There was so much Khun wanted to talk about, so much he wanted to ask his friend, but instead, Endorsi stole him to go on a date.
Everyone followed them, and Khun decided to keep an eye on his team to make sure no one would go too far—including the princess.
But the scorching feeling rising in his chest did not subside. In fact, it only got worse. Seeing them together like that twisted something in his gut, and he couldn't bear to look at them any longer.
He left everyone else to go back to his room, wrapping himself in his blanket in frustration. He didn't normally nap in the afternoon, but he didn't want to deal with his thoughts about Bam on a date with Endorsi. They were a team, it wasn't right for them to be dating. What if they fought and things got tense between them? What if their relationship became irreparable?
Lost in his head, he didn't notice the moment he surrendered to his exhaustion, nor when Bam opened the door after coming back.
"Khun-ssi," he called, shaking him gently. "Khun-ssi, wake up."
Khun opened his eyes, glancing up at him drowsily.
"Sorry," he sighed, his voice heavy with sleep. "I think the Workshop Battle took a toll on me."
"Me too." Bam offered a small smile, sheepish. "I'm sorry for waking you up. I was wondering if you could do something for me before dinner?"
Khun found himself stunned. It was an odd moment to have such an epiphany, the swiveling realization that he would do anything for this man.
"Of course. What is it?"
Bam played with long strands between his fingers, a nostalgic expression taking over his features.
"Would you cut my hair?"
He got everything he needed ready, the costly products on a small table by his side.
Still, he washed Bam's hair tenderly, regardless of the fact most of it would be gone by sunset. It was a part of him, after all—countless secrets and memories relinquished to time spent apart.
Every snip of the scissors was soft and precise, a comfortable silence shared between them. For a moment, the intimacy made Khun forget about the fire in his chest from earlier that day, about the whole situation with Endorsi.
"Earlier today, Endorsi kissed me," he said quietly, yet louder than anything Khun had ever heard, and his hand holding the scissors froze in place.
That goddamn princess, when I find her—
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Khun continued his job, keeping his tone as casual as he could. "She did?"
Bam nodded, then stopped himself, realizing he's not supposed to move when someone is cutting his hair. "Y-yeah."
His eyes were downcast, bashful. And then his hand came up to touch his own cheek, as though mystified by the sensation.
Khun's gut churned.
"I wonder if I really am a monster," he breathed, and Khun was caught off-guard by the words. "Because I just didn't feel anything when she did."
Khun released a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relief flooding right through him, even though his friend looked extremely conflicted at the moment. He was a terrible person.
But he understood now, because Bam grew up in cold isolation, and the one who taught him every word he knew and their meaning was Rachel.
One day, Khun would rewrite them for him—he'd revisit the complexities of interpersonal relationships, spelling words like warmth and trust and mutual understanding.
Today was not that day.
For now, Khun limited himself to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly, and pretended his own cheek wasn't tingling in response, burning him to ashes to be scattered in the wind.
four.
After being apart for one more year, Khun had encountered Bam again right before they were meant to board the Hell Train.
He had watched the way Bam's eyes lit up at Rachel's presence, the way she was able to bend and break him like he didn't mean anything—and Bam let her.
He saw Bam get angry, furious even, shinsu rippling and crackling around them, terrorizing everyone in the platform.
Through it all, Khun tried to call Bam's name over and over, attempting to get his attention. It seemed to him Bam only had eyes for Rachel, even after she tried to kill him, even after she vehemently rejected him.
The entire sequence sent a shiver through Khun, because he had never seen Bam act that way. He didn't feel like it was wrong of him—something that was completely illogical—but he did feel that Bam's efforts were wasted on Rachel, to the point she even pushed him away a second time.
Bam looked peaceful even though he had lost consciousness, and Khun tried hard to tell himself that the way he acted when it came to his best friend was nothing but rational.
Making Bam eat or even stopping him from overworking himself was an impossible task after that. He was pushing his body to its limit, using his thorn more than he should.
Khun was helpless, wondering exactly when things had shifted so much between them.
The notion that Rachel was everything to Bam seeped into his veins like poison, frustration mixing up with concern. He couldn't do anything for him, and it stung.
One day, Khun would become strong enough to be proud to call himself Bam's friend again, using everything in his power to bring him to the top of the Tower.
Today, Khun felt his incompetence drag him down like cold shackles, crushing any semblance of confidence to dust.
five.
The Name Hunt Station had given him a bad feeling for a long time, even before they arrived.
The premonition proved true when Bam was forced to wear a wig and call himself Viole again, something that unsettled Khun.
He looked uncomfortable, disoriented—and Khun felt something rattling in his chest when the regulars trapped in the station were all over Bam, touching him like they had any right, begging for salvation.
To make everything worse, Xia Xia had revealed that Shibisu had planned to use Bam's name for their own benefit, something he absolutely couldn't allow.
Khun couldn't help the cold fury building inside of him when he threw one regular back roughly, sending him several meters away.
How dare you touch him.
They reunited with Shibisu and Hatz, and Khun finally snapped.
He confronted the swordsman, both his pride and his body at stake, because he would never allow anyone else to use his friend, no matter what.
After the fight, Khun was off to search for Bam, and just when he thought the day couldn't get any worse, he found Endorsi literally throwing herself at him.
The door smashed the wall from how much force he used when he opened it, and he couldn't hold it back any longer—
"Hey! You! What do you think you're doing?!"
Get off him, you—
Taking deep breaths, he attempted to calm himself down. He was a rational person, and this could be solved logically.
He explained the situation and their resolve in a calm and collected manner, even if he wanted nothing but to grab Endorsi and yank her out of the room.
Thankfully, she left on her own, but even after several minutes, Khun's heart was still beating frantically in his chest.
Eventually, Xia Xia left as well, and they ended up all alone in the expansive room. It had been a while.
"You don't need to worry about a thing, Bam," he reassured, the words spilling from him automatically.
Bam's eyes were fixed on the floor. Clearly, he was reluctant to cause anyone else problems in order to find himself, and that included Endorsi.
Still, he was proud that Bam was finally standing up for himself, that he had managed to choose the selfish option this time.
Khun offered a small smile, although the hole in his chest only grew in response.
"I'll make it work out, no matter what."
One day, Khun would be able to offer Bam more than words, a guiding hand, and complicated plans.
Today, he had to fight the pervasive feeling of not being good enough, even with a bloody arm and his mind being pushed to the limit.
one.
After waking up from his coma and missing two more years, Khun felt disoriented and unsettled.
Something in his chest had unwinded after so long, feelings of incompetence and fear of loss disentangling one by one.
It was overwhelming, perplexing. Khun had lost to Rachel one more time, all the promises he had made to himself over the years coming back to haunt him.
One day, one day, one day .
The painful reality that was shown to him in cold intervals was harrowing, scathing: If Khun died, one day would never come.
Khun had a hard time controlling his body temperature after waking up, and the same applied to the black noise in his head. It was hard to remain rational after seeing Bam, after observing how much he had changed during the time Khun wasn't there for him.
He must have gone through hell , Khun realized, and he didn't know what to do with the lingering guilt that tugged at him constantly.
But Bam still smiled for him, still cared for him like he did the first day, and Khun couldn't help but wonder how long it would take for all of that to change.
Over the years, Khun had failed Bam countless times. What would be the limit of his worthlessness? What would Bam consider enough to finally leave him behind?
Anxiety coiled in him, the inevitability of it making him feel small, helpless.
It caused him to collide with Bam when the other announced his intentions with Yama and Deng Deng soon after they reunited, and Khun was at a loss.
"Still," Bam said stubbornly, despite the cold hard logic displayed in front of him, "I want to save him. Living your life on someone else's terms… it's just so sad."
It tugged at something ugly inside of Khun—something he couldn't name or decipher. Why was Bam going so far for a stranger?
He had known, of course, that Bam was self-sacrificing, that he wanted to save allies and enemies alike. That had been clear since the second floor, and confirmed as an undeniable reality during the Dallar Show.
However, the fact he'd put himself in danger, that he was even willing to fight Baylord Yama over it, made Khun's blood boil, an uncomfortable tingle coursing through his veins.
But what could he do? Khun had been absent for two years. He had missed the events that had molded Bam into who he was today, and Bam didn't seem to be willing to trust him to make everything work out Khun's way.
He couldn't blame him—Khun was willing to sacrifice anyone , including himself, if that guaranteed Bam's safety. It went against what Bam was trying to accomplish.
He sighed, his mouth twitching into a solemn smile, and he shook his head in resignation.
"I'm your strategist, aren't I?" He avoided Bam's eyes, unable to meet his gaze. Keeping his voice steady wasn't easy. "My job is to make sure that you're safe, that you don't get hurt. But if you decide that's not what you want, and you insist on going so far for a stranger, who am I to stop you?"
His hands were shaking, and he hid them behind his body, hoping Bam wouldn't notice. But Bam remained silent, and Khun couldn't take it anymore.
He finally glanced at Bam, and what he found on his face was a bewildered expression, like he hadn't expected Khun to say anything like that in his life.
"Khun-ssi…" He breathed, somehow taking a step closer. Khun suppressed the urge to take one back.
Bam visibly swallowed, his expression unreadable, and he looked like he had figured out something, like he wanted to—
Karaka showed up, interrupting their moment and the tension building with it dissipated.
Khun wanted to scream.
The breeze at the balcony was soothing, even when the negative feelings piling up in him did not subside.
Bam had been staring at him all along, even when other people were present, and it stirred something in him.
He gripped the railing hard and the cold metal made him shiver. They had talked about strategies for a long time but he couldn't keep his mind off the situation earlier.
"Khun-ssi," Bam called, snapping him out of his reverie. "About earlier…"
"You don't need to worry about that," Khun cut him off curtly. "It's just my body temperature. It's been bothering me since I woke up."
It wasn't exactly a lie, but it still wasn't the full truth. But Khun had never been one to show vulnerability, and the previous interaction had left him unsteady.
Bam drew closer, bumping their shoulders together, but he still didn't look at Khun. His eyes looked into the distance, as though searching for answers in the make-believe sky.
"Have you always smiled like that?" He mumbled, barely audible, but Khun caught it all the same.
"Like what?" His throat was tight and he finally flicked his eyes up to Bam. Once again, his expression was unreadable. He used to be an open book, but this Bam was disorientingly new and comfortingly familiar all at once.
Something about this proximity made him tense up, interrupting every possible line of thought.
"Like you're sad," he said after considering for a moment, and his face scrunched up, like he hadn't figured out every word yet. "Like you're screaming inside."
Bam finally looked at him, as though trying to analyze his expression. Warm fingers wrapped around his hand tentatively, cautiously. Khun couldn't breathe.
"How did I miss it before?"
Khun swallowed, his hand in Bam's instinctively clenching into a fist. Bam glanced down, but instead of letting him go, his hold tightened.
"This is just the way I am," Khun conceded, his resolve weak when confronted by those golden eyes.
His hand did not attempt to break free, and he felt like a liar, like a thief. Khun had been both of those things for decades, had proudly worn them like a flag, but it was the first time he felt a pang of guilt at the notion.
Bam deserved better than anything he could possibly give him.
"I don't think that's right," Bam refuted, his eyes half-lidded. "Khun-ssi, you look scared ."
And that ignited everything Khun had been holding back, fierce and incandescent. He shut his eyes in frustration.
" Of course I am scared! How could I not?! You keep putting yourself in harm's way, and you never listen to me! I—" He grit his teeth helplessly, and Bam's hand holding his twitched.
Bam's eyes were wide with surprise when Khun looked at him again, like him voicing those concerns openly was something Bam never expected. But something in his chest had unlatched, and Khun couldn't keep it in anymore.
"You keep getting further away from me, and no matter what I do, I can't keep up. One day, I'll—"
Bam pressed their foreheads together, interrupting what Khun was going to say.
"It's not like that, Khun-ssi," he said, his breath brushing Khun's face. He was holding both of Khun's hands now, intertwining their fingers, grounding him. "You said it earlier. You're my strategist, aren't you? You belong by my side."
Khun was frozen in place, dumbstruck. His throat was straining to contradict Bam, to say anything , his ears ringing and telling him there was no way.
And then Bam swooped down, pressing his forehead against Khun's shoulder, a soft sigh escaping him. Khun's hands were released, and instead, Bam's arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling him close.
"Thank you for coming back to me."
Even if Khun had no words, his body moved on its own, returning the hug. The tension in his shoulders slowly eased into something less guarded.
Perhaps he held Bam tighter than he should have, but he’d let himself do that, just this once.