The late autumn air is chilly, but the humidity makes it positively suffocating.

I stand on the porch, cup of coffee in hand. The cabin behind me is dark, no artificial lights to soften the night. Without the light pollution, I should be able to see better—if not for the rain. The downpour limits my vision to the treeline a hundred meters out, and no matter how much I strain, I can’t hear anything above its static roar.

The door creaks as Mina joins me on the porch. She stands silent next to me for a long while. Long enough that I wonder if she actually had a purpose in coming out here, or if she just wanted some air.

But then she speaks.

“You were right, earlier. To be unsettled.”

My eyes never leave the treeline. My silence spurs her on.

“To be honest, I am too.” There’s a tremble in her voice. “Guideverse… is not usually kind to its guides.”

“Well,” I say, my breath clouding in the cold air. “Boys’ love doesn’t tend to be kind to its boys.”

I can feel her gaze on me, even if I can’t see it in the darkness.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” I make a point to keep my eyes on the edge of the clearing. “I’ve dabbled, but only rarely. Just enough to know it’s not for me.”

Her laugh is small and breathy. “That’s fair. But you are right. What is a boys’ love story without feminized men written to be helpless in the face of the system?”

“I only have one question,” I say. My chest feels cold. My hand tightens on the handle of my mug. “Do I need to worry about getting pregnant?”

“Absolutely not.” Her answer is quick. Short.

“Thank god.”

“But—”

“Don’t.” I sigh. “Just—let me have this moment, please. Just for a moment.”

The silence stretches. The rain falls. My anxiety builds.

“Okay, what? What is it?”

“But you do need to worry about obsessive, controlling, toxic espers.”

The sigh that leaves me feels like it comes from my soul. “Goddamnit. Fuckin’ boys’ love, man.”

“Listen,” she says. Her hand comes to rest on my arm. Soft. Gentle. “You’re not special. If anything, being a guide is the worst-case scenario. I… I wanted to tell you that, but in front of the espers, it’s hard. It’s hard to be honest about this with them in the room. They can’t really… they can’t really understand.”

Her touch doesn’t feel comforting. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because…” She takes a deep breath. “Because I need your help. Or, rather, my brother does.”

---

When I come back to our room, the kid is waiting for me. It’s dark, but he shifts on the bed when I enter.

“Why aren’t you asleep yet?” My voice is a whisper.

“I was waiting for you.”

“I told you I was going to take first watch. Sleep.”

He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t lie back down either.

“What is it?”

“…I heard you. On the porch.”

I still. “What, exactly, did you hear?”

“That you read gay sex comics—”

“—fucking—”

“—and that Yuichi needs your help.”

A board squeaks underfoot as I shift my weight in the silence. “So, you heard everything.”

“Pretty much.”

I take a deep breath.

“You’re not going to help him, are you?” It’s not a question—because he already knows my answer. “Why?”

I don’t respond right away. Instead, I retrieve my sleeping bag and get comfortable against the wall, facing the bed.

He waits while I fuss, giving me the time to situate myself—and my answer.

When I’ve finally stilled, comfortable as I can be sitting on a hardwood floor and leaning against a hard log wall, I answer him.

“I have a bad feeling about this, kid.”

The silence feels heavier. Up till now, I’ve been pragmatically optimistic. I wouldn’t say I’ve been good-natured, but I’ve made it a point to try to avoid dwelling on the negative. But this? These kids. The things they’re not saying. The things they are. This whole situation. Ever since we walked in here, something has felt off.

His voice is soft when he answers. “I… still don’t really understand what’s happening. But earlier today, I noticed that there’s a spot in the back of the cabin, near the edge of the woods, where the ground is freshly turned up. You can see it from the window. I wouldn’t have noticed it, except all the rain has made the ground sink in. And the shape of the puddle is unnaturally square.”

As soon as he says it, my mind starts piecing things together. Their reaction when they first saw us. How Yuichi only stopped his aggressive behavior after Mina saw me. The dirt under her nails. Their shiftiness at claiming to have been alone out here. Their odd hospitality paired with their desire to stay hidden. The relief at us being weak. Yuichi’s unnatural level of exhaustion. His confidence in his strength. And now—the freshly dug rectangular pit in the backyard.

My blood runs cold. “Oh, fuck.”

The kid senses the change in my tone and hears the slip of nylon and zipper as I move to get out of my sleeping bag. He immediately does the same.

We dress and pack silently, neither one of us speaking another word.

Every sound feels like an alarm as we move to slip from the cabin. The whine of old wooden floors creaking under the weight of two grown men. The squeak of the door hinges. The sound of our footsteps on the deck stairs.

The rain hasn’t let up. And in the short distance from the cabin to the treeline, I’m completely soaked through—both my jacket and my shoes. We both are. But the discomfort of the cold wetness against my skin feels refreshing compared to the unnerving weight of being trapped in the ranger cabin, not knowing how many had come before us who never managed to leave on their own two feet.