Needless to say, Hal is proud to have "a senior like Abel." But at the same time, he felt a subtle pain because of it, especially every time Abel looked at him with the gentle and tolerant eyes of "predecessors", the pain became more intense, as if a hot iron was burning his heart, making him restless and almost unable to help but yell: "Please don't look at me like this!"
But how exactly did he want Abel to look at him?
Hal stared at his hand. The soft touch of Abel's hair was still on his fingertips. If he smelled it closer, he could still smell the fragrance of mint, which was the smell of Abel's commonly used shampoo.
The answer to the question seemed to be in the palm of his hand, but when he clenched his fist, he could not grasp it.