Bermuda

“I should have made you promise with a pinky swear back then.”

Leonardo, who had been staring outside the tent, turned his head at the words. Just then, a steaming mug was placed on the table.

“Then I would have had a reason to forcibly bring you back.”

Leonardo glanced at the fragrant contents being pushed toward him, then looked up again.

Hugo, who had set down the mug, slowly sat in the chair opposite. He turned his eyes to the outside of the tent, where Leonardo’s gaze had been.

Another mug in Hugo’s hand was also emitting hot steam. However, unlike Leonardo’s, it carried a strong roasted coffee aroma that seemed almost burnt.

Leonardo looked at the clear drink placed in front of him, then asked as he grabbed the mug’s handle:

“Why are you giving me this?”

Blue eyes rolled to the side.

“Why, don’t you like it?”

“...It’s not that. It’s just different from yours.”

“I thought it would be better for recovering your strength. Well, you seem to have recovered quite a bit already.”

He seemed to be pointing out how Leonardo had run off beyond the tent after asking to go slowly because he was tired. Feeling somewhat embarrassed by Hugo’s words, Leonardo avoided his gaze and brought the mug to his lips. It was an orange-flavored tea with a refreshing, sweet scent. It was certainly more to his taste than strong coffee.

As the sweetness and warmth spread through his stomach, he felt languid yet fulfilled. A pleasant drowsiness settled on Leonardo’s lips like a smile. Hugo, who had been observing his reaction, asked casually:

“Does it suit your taste?”

“Yeah. I like it.”

“...”

“I mean, I like oranges.”

As if suddenly conscious of something, Hugo chuckled softly at the hastily added object. Then, imagining the bursting orange pulp, he had the silly thought that it was fitting for him to like something like himself.

At that moment, Leonardo, who had been drinking the hot tea without trouble, belatedly answered Hugo’s earlier statement.

“But even if I had promised with a pinky swear, you would have listened if I said I wanted to be here, right?”

His fluttering eyes spoke in a rather bold tone.

“You’re secretly quite weak to me, aren’t you?”

Although it seemed to be thrown out playfully, the tone was confident, so Hugo just stared at him in silence. Soon, he shook his head and turned his eyes away, taking a sip of coffee. It was problematic when he was too perceptive.

Now, afraid that he might try to manipulate him at will, Hugo kept his words to himself. Of course, as he couldn’t deny it in the end, the atmosphere naturally flowed toward acknowledgment.

As their conversation trailed off, both of their gazes fixed on the members moving busily outside the tent. By now, darkness had fallen on the cabin’s gathering place, and bright lamps illuminated the path at regular intervals.

Occasionally, members passing in front of the tent would deliberately slow their pace and glance at the two of them.

As he observed each of these scenes one by one, Leonardo became increasingly immersed in the subtle orange scent.

About thirty minutes ago. Hugo had approached Leonardo with difficulty as he was swept up in the crowd, unable to come to his senses, and had barely managed to grab him. Hugo firmly instructed the members that Leonardo was still a patient in need of rest, and that although he understood their joy at seeing him, they should withdraw for now.

Because the Commander had been so protective of Leonardo that they hadn’t had a chance to approach him closely, the members dispersed reluctantly, each giving Leonardo a word, saying they would see him again later. Most were praises for his abilities or recognition of his achievements, but the occasional “thank you” strongly shook Leonardo’s closed heart.

Perhaps because of this, Leonardo, who had pulled down Hugo’s hand covering his eyes, felt a strong desire to watch the retreating members a little longer. It felt as if the cheers of the crowd he had heard on the way back from victory on the battlefield were flickering before his eyes.

As a result of persistently begging Hugo to let him stay outside, he was able to watch people through the open entrance, with chairs and a table set up inside a large tent.

Their figures, carrying out their duties and caring for the injured under the bright moonlight, were like a ray of hope blooming in despair. Objectively speaking, it was by no means a hopeful situation, but it was astonishing how the encouragement and support they offered could shift such a pessimistic view.

Leonardo, who had been quietly staring at the members, soon emptied half of his mug. As he slowly looked around, he spoke softly.

“I want to take back what I said earlier.”

Hugo’s head turned. To his questioning gaze, Leonardo continued, still staring at one spot.

“I said you should be grateful to me, right? I’m taking that back.”

Hugo, who had been silent, answered half a beat late.

“Why?”

He was puzzled by the mention of something that had already passed, but also wondered why he was taking it back, since it wasn’t particularly wrong.

At Hugo’s question, Leonardo hesitated for a moment. He absentmindedly scratched the wood grain on the table with his fingernail. Then, lowering his gaze, he began to speak with a face as if recalling something.

“Before, when we were in the midst of war with Turandos, I remembered a mistake I made when I was young.”

The topic Leonardo suddenly brought up was a memoir about the war that had lasted about nine years. It was a story from the time they entered the dark period when Raina Logia and Turandos ruthlessly took lives on the battlefield as if they were mortal enemies who couldn’t live under the same sky.

It was also the period when Leonardo, who was a boy soldier at the time, was just beginning to stand out as a warrior.

Originally, boy soldiers are generally less skilled in combat and coping abilities than adult soldiers, both physically and mentally. Therefore, it was fundamentally unreasonable to consider them a major force, and there was a strong perception of them as apprentice soldiers rather than formal soldiers.

Even when deployed to the battlefield, rather than fighting the enemy on the front lines, they often took on relatively menial tasks such as helping with military work at the main base or serving adult soldiers in various ways. Of course, Leonardo was occasionally mentioned in some units due to his striking appearance, but at first, he too was just one of the green boy soldiers, far from being a war hero.

However, on the battlefield, there were moments when even such minimal boundaries disappeared.

“In urgent situations where lives are in immediate danger, when everyone is in armor, you can’t tell who’s an adult and who’s a child. So they put weapons in the hands of kids who haven’t even developed calluses and send them to the battlefield, telling them to bring back enemy heads.”

A place where conventional norms and ethics completely disappear. That’s what the battlefield was.

Therefore, the dazzling appearance of a golden warrior in a unit that was essentially destined for annihilation as bait for the enemy army was a miracle and salvation that no one had expected.

Like the beginning of a heroic tale appearing in legend, it was the birth of a golden hero who annihilated the enemy and planted a flag on the high ground.

Leonardo remembered that moment when everything seemed to revolve around him.

“The whole world focuses on me, hailing me as a hero. How would a child understand what that really means? Just excited because they say I’m doing well, and burning with revenge. Rampaging more cruelly to live up to expectations.”

Leonardo described himself at that time as “beast-like.” He said he lacked the respect for life that a human should have had.

A slight surprise spread in Hugo’s eyes as he listened. It wasn’t because the past he was talking about was cruel or shocking.

Leonardo almost never brought up his own story /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ first. Moreover, he hadn’t expected to hear directly from his mouth the story of the battlefield, which was like Leonardo’s sore spot.

Whether aware of Hugo’s reaction or not, Leonardo continued to stare at the members as he spoke.

“At that time, I had almost no sense of reality. The people I killed didn’t look like people to me, but like monsters who deserved to die—who needed to disappear. And while everyone says they fight for the empire, I actually thought I was the main character of the war, that I alone determined victory or defeat, and that the rest of the ordinary soldiers were just useless workers. It wasn’t just arrogance—I had no concept. In fact, the reason I could be called a hero was all thanks to the many opportunities created by their sacrifices.”

Leonardo ran his hand through his hair. The lamplight reflected in his golden eyes, lost in thought.

“One of the common mistakes made by commanders who go directly to the battlefield is falling into the superiority complex of thinking they won this war because they alone are great. I was intoxicated with myself like that, even though I wasn’t even a high-ranking commander. Of course, as time passed, I realized my thinking was wrong, but for a while, I was like that.”

“...”

“But I want to take back what I said to you earlier because it feels like I’ve made the same mistake again. ...I am strong, but I don’t have the right to say that as if it’s a given. When you think about it, everyone here deserves to be thanked for fighting well. It wasn’t me who killed the mother body, but everyone belonging to the subjugation force who killed it together.”

A bitter yet gentle smile spread across his beautiful profile as he said this. There was a maturity unlike his age deeply embedded in it, and Hugo couldn’t take his eyes off his shining figure.

Perhaps feeling the persistent gaze, Leonardo looked at Hugo and smiled brightly.

“If I had been alone, I probably couldn’t have won.”

Hugo’s lips parted briefly, then closed. The fresh orange scent had now filled the tent.

Looking at him before his eyes, Hugo couldn’t help but acknowledge it. He was destined to become a hero.

Shining so brightly, even if one tried to cover the sky with both hands. One cannot hide the sun.