World's Best Protagonist [BL]

Every organization has a secret. Something that should remain a secret no matter what. A part of them that was included in the organizational chart, but excluded from portraying the principles and beliefs of the whole group.

In other words, the black sheep, the secret order, the hidden council, of whatever you call a group that is not introduced to the public and stays in the shadows.

The NSA has one of them.

The 12 Central Chambers are divided into four groups. The Seekers, the Management, the Archives, and the one missing.

I think I know what it is now. The secret group, the Outworlders.

The organization shuts down any news that talks about them. Still, the media have ears even in the walls of the organization, so they keep digging into it, asking the people they believe belong to that group.

Now, the question is, why aren’t those people telling the truth? If asked directly, they deny it, avoid the question, or blatantly curse out the reporters for asking such an absurd question.

Tonight, Claude gave the answer while lying next to me.

"I can sleep on the floor in the other room."

"I know you can."

I shifted my body to find a comfortable position, but I’ll end up dead knotting myself here, and I still won’t find it.

The bed was big enough for two people to share, but how can I sleep properly like this? There’s no blanket! And there’s only one pillow!

I adjusted the pillow, pulling it further into my side of the bed and sighing again. I don’t sleep without a blanket. I feel exposed.

"Then, I better move there."

"We’re still not done talking, aren’t we?"

I bit my lip, suppressing a snarky comment from escaping my lips. What do you mean by talking? I’m the only one talking here!

His answers are curt, monosyllabic, and forced. I only stayed because there were questions left unanswered, but he insisted I lie on the bed.

I almost jumped when he lay next to me after wearing a shirt, but then I realized there was nothing to worry about. We’re both men. The only problem is the lack of sheets.

"You’re not answering my questions anymore. You’re avoiding them," I stated. He should feel my discomfort, but was probably just ignoring it. What an inconsiderate bastard.

"Try again."

I groaned. Okay. I better take advantage. If he avoids it again, I’m standing up.

"Do you want to go home?" There. I asked it. He won’t be able to answer it, so I have an excuse to leave.

"I am home."

I turned my head to the side and looked at him. He was looking at the ceiling, then, when he sensed my movement, his head shifted toward me slightly, briefly meeting my eyes.

There was truth in those black orbs, yet I could not comprehend what he meant. So, I asked, "Do you see this place as home?"

Claude did not answer. He simply looked ahead again and watched the ceiling as if he were stargazing. I did the same, but all I saw was a white surface turned dark yellowish because of the light from the lamp.

"This place is a prison and protection. No outside forces can kill me if I stay inside, but once I step out, the same group protecting me will be the forces that will kill me."

I was rendered speechless.

"The arrival of us—Earth Invaders, as they call us at the beginning, was deemed as a threat to your world. No matter how we explained it, there was nothing that could prove our intentions. Therefore, we were captured."

"But you were saving lives!"

"And someone who can kill a monster with a single swoop of his sword is not ordinary. I was feared, regardless of what I did. The others are too. We were seen as no different from those monsters that invaded your land."

I clenched my fists. I could feel the sharp edges of my nails on my palm. His tone remained emotionless, but his eyes betrayed him.

I could feel his resentment.

"What happened next?" I still dared to ask in a low, careful voice.

"As the days passed by, we changed. When we conformed to what was normal, we were treated as slaves. When we became strong, we were hailed, yet behind the scenes, we were chained."

He let out a dry chuckle. "Humans are the same no matter which world."

I couldn’t refute that. But I did wonder about one thing. "Why didn’t you fight back?"

Claude was silent for a while. He covered his eyes with his arm. I thought he wouldn’t answer, but after a few minutes, he did.

"They’ve got something on us."

"What is it?"

I waited, believing he would give me a reply again. But my eyelids began to feel heavy, and he still did not speak. I rubbed my eyes, turned to my back on him, and decided to just sleep even if it was hard.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when I heard him groaning. I overturned again. He was sweating a lot, but his eyes were shut tight.

"Captain."

I tapped his shoulder. Called him again and again, but he wasn’t waking up. Is he having a nightmare? I propped my upper body and shook him by the shoulder, but he continued groaning.

"Claude!"

I slapped him on the face, a little bit hard. He stilled. His eyelashes trembled, and then his eyes opened slightly. His breathing was heavy, but the rate was normal again. I sighed in relief. Even though his gaze was hazy, I was glad he woke up.

I lay on my side, my hands on his chest, and like a mother putting his baby to sleep, I patted him until his heavy breathing became sound and steady.

Once he was asleep tight, I got up. I took two towels from his drawer, small and large. I used the small one to wipe his sweaty forehead, and the large one became my blanket.

After I felt secure, I went back to sleep. My eyes were already closed when I felt something rest on my chest. I didn’t think too much of it and just let sleep drift me away completely.

The following day, everything was back to normal. Claude had no recollection of what happened to him last night. I didn’t probe and just followed him to the NSA.

I had to brace myself for the meeting. So, as I walked next to the captain, receiving glances left and right, I cleared my head of any unnecessary thoughts and held my head high.