Bermuda

A deep bass resonated at the back of his skull, accompanied by a chilling sensation crawling down his spine. The hair on Leonardo’s arms stood on end, and his shoulders flinched involuntarily.

As he slowly turned his head—his grip tight around the tent cloth—he saw Hugo, who had appeared without warning, gazing down at him with a tired yet intimidating expression.

Leonardo blinked his startled eyes and opened his mouth, lips parting slightly.

‘What the hell... I didn’t sense him at all?’

Even if he’d let his guard down, it was almost impossible that Hugo had come this close without him noticing.

No—more importantly, when had he woken up?

“When did you wake up?” he asked.

“...Answer my question. Where are you going?”

Leonardo swallowed hard, worried he might’ve been caught staring at Hugo’s face. Even to someone like him, who wasn’t easily rattled, Agrizendro’s presence—clearly in a foul mood after waking up—was genuinely intimidating.

He searched for a plausible excuse, then lifted the crumpled cigarette pack.

“Just needed a smoke...”

Hugo’s gaze briefly dropped to the cigarette pack before returning to Leonardo’s golden eyes, which pleaded up at him.

He remained silent for a long while, then slowly blinked and said,

“I’ll go with you.”

Hugo and Leonardo climbed a rocky cliff located slightly above the cave where the base camp was situated.

Leonardo perched precariously at the edge of a jutting rock, a cigarette between his fingers, the filter pressed to his lips. After lighting it, he turned to the side and asked,

“You don’t smoke. Why’d you follow me?”

Hugo stood with his hands buried in the pockets of his combat pants, positioned far enough to give space, close enough to hear. He’d been quietly watching the distant peak across the way, and at the question, turned his eyes toward Leonardo.

“To keep an eye on you.”

The voice was even colder than usual. Leonardo, eyeing him from the corner of his gaze, muttered under his breath,

“You could’ve just sent someone else like before.”

He shifted his posture, raising one knee and resting the arm holding the cigarette on it. Hugo looked at him briefly, then returned his gaze to the front, offering no response.

Leonardo assumed he’d been ignored and looked ahead as well, a twinge of guilt tightening in his chest. He had probably woken Hugo up.

The peninsula sky was usually dreary and overcast, but aside from a massive cloud hanging over the far peak, the night sky tonight was surprisingly clear. Leonardo exhaled slowly, watching the stars gleam overhead.

The wind blew from Hugo’s side toward him, so the smoke didn’t drift his way. Still, they were close enough that Hugo could smell the cigarette.

There was a strange familiarity to the scent. It was the same kind Andreas used to smoke, and Hugo vaguely remembered Leonardo mentioning he used the same brand back in the interrogation room.

Shifting his gaze to Leonardo, Hugo studied the way his hair and profile caught the moonlight.

The familiar image stirred something in him—memories of the first time he’d brought Leonardo to the Council.

Smoking on the annex terrace... that memory overlapped the present. His jawline now seemed even sharper than before.

‘Did he lose weight?’

Lowering his eyes, Hugo looked at the black short-sleeved t-shirt Leonardo wore. A standard piece of clothing, but it stood out. Even now, no longer a soldier, he still clung to old habits.

Leonardo’s physique was lean and athletic—more refined than bulky—but even so, the shirt looked unusually loose.

That looseness drew Hugo’s eyes to his exposed, pale neck, visible above the stretched collar. A black choker encircled his throat, passing just below the slight protrusion of his Adam’s apple.

He’d seen glimpses of it before, but never this clearly. It didn’t look out of place, strangely enough.

The stark contrast between the black choker and his skin gave off a faintly decadent aura. Combined with the moonlit smoke, it somehow suited him. To an outsider, it might even look like an accessory.

Suddenly, Hugo recalled Flynn mentioning that Leonardo himself had brought up the subject once. He’d debated asking about it before—more than once. After a short pause, he called out quietly,

“Leonardo.”

Leonardo, cigarette at his lips, turned his eyes at the sound.

As those brilliant golden eyes met his, Hugo spoke cautiously.

“There’s something I want to ask you. Would that be alright?”

Leonardo blinked, momentarily puzzled. Then he chuckled.

“What’s with the formality? Since when do you ask permission to ask?”

“Because I have a feeling you won’t be happy about it.”

Leonardo rolled his eyes up thoughtfully, trying to guess the question. Then he inhaled once and exhaled a ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) thin stream of smoke.

“Go ahead. I’ll hear it.”

Taking that as permission, Hugo stared at him and asked in a calm voice:

“That thing around your neck—did the military make you wear it?”

A warm, humid gust passed between them.

“...”

Leonardo’s face, which had been expressive up until now, froze instantly. After a few seconds, even the remaining ease in his expression drained away.

He stared silently at Hugo with cold eyes, then curled his lips into a faint, twisted smile.

“Yeah... that’s definitely a question I wouldn’t welcome. You really know me.”

The discomfort in his tone and gaze was undeniable. Hugo realized he wasn’t going to get a proper answer. He looked down briefly, then raised his eyes again.

“That was rude of me. You don’t have to answer.”

Leonardo said nothing. He turned back to the horizon, dragging on his cigarette. The side profile revealed under the moonlight was unfamiliar. Hugo followed his gaze in silence.

The air had turned colder. Hugo glanced over the cliff’s edge, quietly waiting as the cigarette burned down between Leonardo’s fingers.

Silence fell. Only the faint scent of smoke reminded him that Leonardo was still beside him. Hugo regretted asking. It had been too soon—and maybe he’d never get an answer.

Then, unexpectedly, Leonardo spoke.

“A dog they were too afraid to touch—but still wanted to collar so they could call it theirs.”

The words came out of nowhere, and Hugo turned his head sharply toward him. Leonardo still wasn’t looking at him, but it was clearly an answer.

Hugo narrowed his eyes, trying to parse the meaning.

It sounded like the military had forced the collar on him—not out of need, but control. Understanding clicked into place. Hugo’s expression remained still, but his fists clenched without realizing.

At that moment, Leonardo looked at him. Smoke curled from between his lips.

“You’re the first one who ever asked if it was okay to ask.”

“...”

“So I’ll let you in on a secret.”

Hugo’s brow twitched, attention sharpening.

Leonardo, catching the look on his face, let out a faint laugh.

“The military can’t put something like this on me.”