Bermuda

Leonardo stood amidst burning flames.

Once, this had been a high ridge carpeted with low-growing grass, and beyond it, far in the distance, a vast plain could be seen.

Now the entire area was engulfed in fiercely burning fire, the air thick with choking smoke that made it impossible to tell what this place had once been.

Leonardo stood in the middle of it all, watching the monsters scream and burn to death. His face, marked with indifference, clearly showed fatigue. At last, as a blazing crimson flame burst from his hand, even the final screams were silenced.

When the sounds that had been grating on his ears finally quieted, Leonardo dropped down where he stood. Days of hunting monsters without rest had drained his stamina to the limit.

Although the unquenchable flames still rose around him, he made no move to put them out. Likely, the rational commander who was surely watching him even now would arrive soon.

While he sat surrounded by the fierce blaze, just as he expected, a blue barrier spread above his head. A wide magic circle formed on the ground, and from all directions at a set radius around him, thick streams of water surged upward.

They tore into the flames, scattering them violently and leaving chaos in their wake. Leonardo sat with his knees slightly raised, arms resting on them, and quietly watched.

The roaring fire was swallowed by huge coils of water, vanishing as though it had never burned. As the flames died, the smoke thickened, spreading in all directions and blurring the world like a fog. His eyes began to sting.

But soon a faint breeze stirred, keeping the smoke from drifting past the barrier. The haze cleared only around where Leonardo sat.

“You’ll suffocate if you stay like that.”

The owner of the blue barrier appeared before him. Hugo, who had come from somewhere unseen, stepped through and approached Leonardo. Without a word, he held out a water bottle.

Leonardo stared at it blankly, suddenly aware of the burning in his throat.

Normally, he would never have accepted it. But his thirst was so great now that he snatched it without even glancing at Hugo’s face. He twisted the cap off in haste and tilted his head back, gulping greedily.

Water spilled from the corner of his lips, running down past the bob of his Adam’s apple. Hugo watched in silence.

“Ha—”

When his thirst was finally quenched, Leonardo lowered the nearly empty bottle and let out a short sigh. After wiping the stray water from his mouth with the back of his hand, he returned it. Hugo took the bottle, and it quickly filled again.

“Do you need more?”

Leonardo shook his head, then ran his hand through his hair a couple of times and lowered it again. Seeing how worn he looked, Hugo studied him quietly. It was no wonder—Leonardo had slaughtered monsters these past few days in numbers like bees in a hive.

Lately, he seemed to be pushing himself far too hard.

Hugo had a fair idea why. Flynn had told him Leonardo’s relentless killing spree wasn’t just anger toward him—there was something urgent driving him.

So Hugo had allowed him to roam freely within a certain radius, and this was the result.

Looking at this fool who had drained his mana to the brink of collapse, Hugo wondered what to do with him before finally speaking.

“Leonardo, I know you’re strong, but don’t overdo it.”

“...”

“It seems you haven’t been sleeping much lately. At this rate, your body won’t last.”

Leonardo didn’t move or reply. Hugo sighed.

“Are you not going to answer now?”

At that, Leonardo lifted his head slightly and replied in a voice tinged with strain.

“If you’re not going to give orders, don’t talk to me needlessly.”

At the insolent answer, Hugo’s straight brows drew together. His voice turned firm.

“If I order you to look at me?”

Leonardo gave a small sigh. Rubbing his eyes tightly, he slowly lifted his head, a deep frown etched on his face, clear dissatisfaction in his gaze—yet exhaustion had settled even deeper.

“Leonardo, talk to me for a bit.”

But instead of answering, Leonardo pushed himself up. Hugo extended a hand for him to take, but he ignored it. After roughly brushing off his clothes, Leonardo said flatly,

“I have nothing to say to you.”

He tried to walk past, but Hugo blocked his path and seized his arm with his left hand.

Leonardo flinched, attempting to shake him off, but he couldn’t break free—whether from Hugo’s firm grip or his own lack of strength. He pulled against it with a frown, but Hugo’s hold didn’t loosen.

He even considered heating his arm to make Hugo let go, but the sight of the bandage wrapped around the hand gripping him stilled him.

In the end, he only glared at Hugo, running his free hand irritably through his hair. Hugo’s tone held quiet concern.

“I don’t think avoiding this is the right way. Whatever else, you’re in a precarious state right now.”

“...”

“You must have some resentment toward me. So let’s talk, Leonardo.”

Leonardo scoffed.

“And then what? You’ll just tell me again you had no choice, expecting me to understand?”

“That’s not it.”

“Damn it. In the end, I’m supposed to swallow everything, bury my feelings, and cater to you? Why should I?”

“Leonardo—”

Her sharp retort drew a sigh from him. Hugo looked at him for a moment, then said,

“I told you, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you want to talk about?”

Leonardo’s gaze was cold. Hugo’s answer was calm.

“Last time I told you why I had no choice. This time, I want to hear your side.”

“...”

“Tell me what’s been upsetting you, what’s weighing on you. I know you’re angry I tested you. But if we talk, maybe we’ll uncover things we misunderstood or didn’t know. Right now, I think you and I need that conversation.”

Leonardo stayed silent. Hugo waited.

At last, a low voice slipped through cracked lips.

“If we talk, what will change?”

“There’s more chance of change than if we don’t.”

At that answer, Leonardo frowned as if incredulous, glancing away. But seeing there might be room for conversation, Hugo pressed gently.

“As I said before, Leonardo, it’s not that I don’t trust you.”

“...”

“I want you to understand that.”

Silence lingered. When Leonardo still didn’t react, Hugo continued,

“I trust you. But if your unstable control had caused {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} a problem, it could have put you in a difficult position. I wanted to watch over you to prevent that. So—”

“I know that too.”

Hugo stopped, caught off guard. Leonardo slowly turned his head, his tone a little less forceful.

“I said I know that too.”

“...”

“I know you were thinking of my position. I know. But... when you said you’d try to trust me, I trusted you too. And when you tested me, I realized—what I trusted was far greater than the trust you offered.”

Hugo listened quietly. Leonardo lowered his gaze for a moment before continuing.

“I thought that even if my control was unstable, if I said I could prevent danger, you’d believe me. Because I truly believed I could. Even if my control wavered, no one would be hurt. If anyone got caught up, I could still protect them.”

“...”

“I know I’m strong. I know my abilities. I never cared much before. But because of you, I started to care.”

Hugo’s eyes narrowed slightly, trying to catch the meaning. Leonardo lifted his head, though his gaze stayed on the distant, smoke-filled horizon.

“When I heard about the weight of your responsibility, it seemed crushing. So I began to worry. That my damn unstable control might hurt someone and make your burden heavier.”

Hugo looked at him with faint surprise. He hadn’t imagined Leonardo took his trust—and his responsibility—so seriously.

Leonardo’s gaze finally shifted to Hugo’s blue eyes.

“I know it was enough for you to find me lacking. I know I misread that so-called trust. As a commander, you couldn’t trust me the way I wanted. I knew that, so I stayed quiet. But I had to trust my own abilities, even if my control was unstable. Do you know why?”

His frown deepened.

“You didn’t come then.”

Hugo stiffened. Then—Leonardo must mean the time with the mutant, when Hugo had arrived late. Remembering it, Hugo let out a faint sigh.

“...Leonardo.”

“The 1st Battalion went into the water and didn’t come out. You were far away, nowhere in sight. So I had to believe again that I could save them, that I could keep them safe.”

Leonardo bit his lip, his emotions rising.

“I doubted myself until the moment I jumped in. Then I fought—rolling in the muck—determined not to let anyone get hurt, even with my control unstable. But you still tested me, still didn’t believe I could prevent it.”

“...”

“Damn it... but do you know the worst part?”

“...”

“I doubted myself because of you, I jumped in because you were late, and even then you were planning to test me—and yet, I still—!”

He broke off, too agitated to go on. Closing his eyes tightly, his lashes trembled with anger.

“...Ha.”

A heavy breath escaped him. Lowering his head to rein in his emotions, he lifted it again with difficulty. His face looked pained, almost fragile.

This time, his eyes held no sharpness, only desolation.

“I... was waiting for you to come quickly.”

Hugo’s eyes widened.

For a moment, he didn’t know whether to understand with his head or his heart. His mind went blank.

Facing those wounded golden eyes, he couldn’t speak.

His blue gaze wavered as it traced Leonardo’s trembling breath, his furrowed yet striking brows, and the lips reddened from biting.

The grip on Leonardo’s arm slackened, his hand sliding down to brush against Leonardo’s.

That cool, broad hand closed gently around the warmth it found. Hugo’s eyes followed the touch, lingering there. His lips moved as if to speak, then stilled; his Adam’s apple shifted faintly.

Finally, he looked up at Leonardo’s face again.

And he said nothing.