By Zephyria Because of the mask that stretched from beneath his eyes down to his chin, it was impossible to tell if the lips speaking those words were curving or twisting.
The golden eyes, having calmly composed their emotions, turned away. Having stepped out of Hugo’s immediate radius, Leonardo strolled leisurely toward the far end of the silent corridor.
His two hands, clad in white gloves, were clasped behind his back—hidden by his swaying cloak, just as Hugo often did. Contrary to the complex emotions of the man left behind, his retreating figure was so devoid of lingering attachment that it almost seemed cold. Even though things here hadn’t been fully settled, he had said his piece and was distancing himself again.
Hugo stared blankly at his receding back before slowly lowering the palm he had rested against the wall.
The boots that had been about to follow him stopped dead in their tracks before he could even take two steps. Gazing vacantly after the golden light, he suddenly asked the air.
“Then, after you win?”
In the empty hallway where only the two of them remained, the low voice echoed with unusual clarity. Leonardo’s pace halted instantly. Standing still with his back turned, he half-turned his upper body and tilted his head.
“Huh?”
“Will you not come to see me after that? Once you’ve obtained everything you desire.”
As he asked, Hugo took another step forward, his gaze fixed on those gold eyes. He intended not to move until he heard an answer.
He wanted to ask if Leonardo had decided to participate in the league simply as an excuse to see him, or if the priorities had shifted. Until the moment he had gone so far as to add a non-existent championship prize to the list just to lure Leonardo, Hugo believed that as long as the man appeared, the objective didn’t matter much. But now, it felt as though the two were distinctly different.
But first, more than anything, he wanted to hear one thing for certain.
“Will we still be together then?”
At the abrupt question, the golden eyebrows twitched upward. For a few seconds, Leonardo stared back; in his vision was a man standing solemnly upon the long stretch of carpet, awaiting a sentence.
He possessed a physique so massive that he seemed to fill the corridor alone, but unlike when they first met, he looked empty by his side. It wasn’t necessarily true, but rather that he was projecting such an aura with his entire being.
Rolling his eyes upward, Leonardo briefly reflected on the words he had spoken.
Soon, a faint, indiscernible chuckle escaped the lips beneath the mask.
Truly fitting for a Council Legion Commander, who thoroughly verifies and prepares for every possible contingency.
He had told him he would come to see him throughout the tournament, and now the man was asking about what lies beyond. Was it because he spent his days clutching documents where a single word could change the entire meaning? Or was it because he suffered through tedious meetings where every single nuance was picked apart?
‘I can’t even tell him.’
The way he asked so persistently was quite devoid of mood. Of course, even that side of him was endearing.
Last time, he had been the one to ask about this relationship first, but now, seeing the other man anxious and waiting for an answer was quite enjoyable. He wanted to prolong the time and observe the expression, but he knew he hadn’t done anything particularly virtuous to justify that.
‘Sometimes I wonder if I actually know anything at all.’
It was a part of him that had weighed on his mind the entire time. It was also a fact he had tried to ignore, using the other’s consideration as a shield. In a way, perhaps he had needed an absolution.
The time of a child desperate for the will to live and a fleeting moment of an adult could not possibly carry the same weight. Strictly speaking, he had no right to resent him or express disappointment. He was the one who had kept the man waiting, after all.
And yet, acting like such a nuisance despite knowing that…
‘It’s probably because I want to stay by his side, acting spoiled just to make my heart feel a little less heavy.’
In the end, he was the bad one, and though the form differed, they were clearly saying the same thing.
So, since he had fed him this much, shouldn’t he figure it out on his own?
Shaking his head as if dissatisfied, Leonardo answered plainly.
“Depending on how you behave.”
Upon hearing this, Hugo’s brow furrowed slightly. He couldn’t yet decide whether he should approach right now or let him go for today.
Leaving behind those ambiguous words, Leonardo resumed his leisurely pace. However, the golden eyes that lingered until the very last moment seemed to curve slightly.
In the instant the narrowed blue eyes guessed his intention, the white wrist—which had been moving away with hands behind the back—suddenly flicked up and down. That fluttering motion, which brought a strange sense of déjà vu, was enough to instantly capture Hugo’s attention.
At that moment, Leonardo stopped his feet once more and tilted his chin up.
Looking up at the ceiling of the corridor, he spoke in a sighing tone, as if wanting to be heard.
“Aren’t you coming? I’m hungry.”
The pleading tone was thick with intent. Combined with the hand gesture that mimicked a seductive wagging tail—who knows where he learned that—it was a powerful blow that left the door wide open. It was a 180-degree turn from the voice that had told him to figure it out himself. It was effective enough to instantly enchant the man who had been watching him.
Almost exactly as the words ended, Hugo stepped forward, his long legs quickly catching up to Leonardo. To begin with, the distance between them hadn’t been that far. Now that he saw it, this fellow—who would be second to none in a race of speed—had been intentionally slowing his pace and circling around. As if saying, come catch me.
Hugo gripped the fastening button of his wrist with his teeth and stripped off his glove in one motion. Even as he did, he tilted his head and clicked his tongue.
Those ever-shifting emotions were incredibly difficult for someone like him, who had lived a life as consistent as if measured by a ruler. The way he would boil over and then suddenly turn cold, or the mischievousness of glancing sideways, hoping he would come—it was not easy to fathom. Yet, because of that, he was colorful, stimulating, and Hugo found himself helplessly drawn to this willful existence.
Now bare-handed, Hugo grabbed Leonardo’s wrist, which was still stubbornly fluttering. Just as before, he penetrated the neck of the glove and dug into the palm. He stripped away the piece of fabric that groaned under the tight pressure of two hands pushing in.
Their two bare palms met naturally, and without anyone leading, they pressed together until even the gaps in their palm lines aligned. Ten fingers intertwined like a single body, overlapping haphazardly. Leonardo, glancing down at the contact, deliberately maintained a stoic expression.
Even as his fingertips curled, he muttered, pretending not to know everything.
“I didn’t tell you to hold my hand.”
Hugo, looking into the haughty profile, clicked his tongue. He applied strength to the captured hand and pulled him closer.
“How about this?”
Their stumbling feet tangled together. Upon Leonardo’s startled lips, an unfinished affection leaned in.
[ Group Stage Match 3, Obsidian Prism Dome ]
Leonardo’s words—that they wouldn’t be able to stay together for long even if they met for a while—were true.
He was trapped inside a polyhedron dome where light reflected from all directions in flashes. The spectators held their betting tickets, watching him in breathless silence. A grand heroic anthem playing in the background heightened the atmosphere of the arena.
“Brother! Behind you!”
Leonardo, who had been floating alone amidst the swarming afterimages, glanced back at the sound of Ero’s voice. Sharp beams of light, like yellow dots, reflected off the mirror maze of obsidian and flew in from all directions.
Some of those were real, and some were illusions. Because the number was so vast it was dizzying, there was no point in distinguishing truth from falsehood.
Unbothered, Leonardo twisted his upper body and swept his cloak wide. Vanishing from the spectators’ sight in an instant, he cut through the rain of beams. A golden afterimage traversed the arena at a speed faster than sound.
The attacks aimed at him collided in the empty air, triggering a chain explosion. Yet, not a single edge of the fluttering ivory cloak was scorched black.
The shadow hiding in the obsidian rolled its eyes, searching for the vanished target. The surroundings were filled only with thick smoke and black fragments. In this polyhedron dome where streaks of light stretched haphazardly, there couldn’t be many places to hide.
Just as he was expanding his field of vision by increasing his doppelgangers in real-time, a suffocating heat pierced through his lungs.
Shadow’s pupils slid to the right. Simultaneously, the obsidian fortress he was hiding in began to sizzle and melt.
Beyond the distorted, flowing dark mirror, a blazing golden flame demon approached within arm’s reach.
The wide-open gold eyes spotted the target and raised the right arm. The blazing sword plunged forward, reaching the target in an instant.
Crunch—