The two walked side by side through the forest. They could have just teleported and been done with it, but somehow they had stopped just before reaching the base camp and were taking a nearby forest path instead.
And somehow, they were holding hands.
In fact, although Hugo’s hand was tightly clasping Leonardo’s, judging by the slight curl of the held fingertips—and the fact that he wasn’t deliberately trying to pull away—it didn’t seem like he was being held against his will.
After all, it had been Leonardo himself who’d placed his hand on Hugo’s when Hugo extended it and said, “Let’s go back.”
Perhaps trying to reassure him, Leonardo—who’d been looking down with a somewhat flustered expression, then asked again in a worried voice what was wrong—pulled himself together and raised his head, shaking it weakly and saying he was fine.
Even so, Hugo didn’t seem to fully believe him.
As if something had shifted in his state of mind, Hugo would occasionally glance over to check Leonardo as they walked, seeing how subdued he’d been since coming back to him. The way his gaze stayed lowered even while he walked steadily was concerning, and Hugo unconsciously toyed with the warmth in his right hand.
In the forest where bluish darkness and the retreating red sunset met at just the right hour, those particularly shining golden eyes rolled up and met Hugo’s.
The only point where their skin touched moved softly, as if answering that caressing grip. As Hugo’s eyes narrowed slightly while looking at him, the sensation writhing under that gaze felt more tempting than he’d expected.
He thought it was strange for two grown men who weren’t in any romantic relationship to be walking hand in hand, but maybe because that youthful face—still not fully stripped of boyishness—stirred his protective instinct, he didn’t feel repulsed. If anything, a strange feeling crept in that he shouldn’t let go.
As those unnecessary thoughts surfaced, Hugo turned forward, avoiding the connected gaze. Leonardo, who had been blankly looking at him, turned forward too.
But the thoughts didn’t vanish just because he wasn’t looking at Leonardo’s face. Instead, his attention slid to their clasped hands, making the sensation feel even sharper than before.
The hand he was holding was meant to stand in for handcuffs under the pretext of preventing an escape.
Yet it was clear neither of them was unaware that it didn’t mean only that.
They walked a long while without a word, hands still linked, and time passed faster than it felt.
Darkness slowly sank over the red-blue forest path, and the energy of others began to stir faintly not far away. Leonardo could instinctively tell that not only members of the 1st Battalion but other battalions too were gathered nearby.
Sensing that their time alone was running out, he finally opened his mouth first, unable to keep bearing the suffocating quiet.
"Why aren’t you asking?"
At the sudden voice, Hugo’s gaze shifted back to him. He met the clear eyes quietly lifted toward him.
Since Leonardo was looking straight into his eyes, it was obvious he was asking something of him, but with so much missing from the sentence, one eyebrow rose reflexively. Hugo blinked once, slow, and gently asked back, trying to catch what he meant,
"About what?"
"..."
Whether he was pretending not to know or truly didn’t know. At the question, Leonardo’s lips moved, and he swallowed the words he’d been about to say. Then, as if in a staring match with himself, he held Hugo’s gaze in silence. And when that gaze really seemed not to understand, he turned away, sulking for no reason.
Even though the lingering look on his profile still bothered him, he acted like he didn’t notice.
While he’d been away from the group, he’d kept thinking about what he’d hear first when he met this person again. And among those possibilities, the most plausible to him had been an interrogation like, “Why didn’t you come back right away?”
Knowing he’d have to explain himself sooner or later, Leonardo had been building countless excuses in his head for that question. That was why he’d tried to meet Kenis first and coordinate their stories before returning.
But after ending up in this situation—walking hand in hand—he thought it might be better to bring it up while they were still alone, and tried to start the conversation with that question.
Yet when the quick-witted person he’d expected to press him instead asked back like that, it felt awkward to suddenly launch into excuses. It would sound flimsy too, like he was stumbling before he’d even begun.
With his words blocked by a tangle of thoughts, the conversation cut off strangely. Leonardo fidgeted at his neck and let his gaze sink weakly to his feet where the grass brushed past.
Hugo, who’d been watching him from the corner of his eye, soon looked away as well. He didn’t push for an answer even as he kept pace, as if he could see the heat rising in that small head.
The surroundings were quiet, only their steps through low grass lingering, and the silence stretched longer. Unable to find the right words to go on, Leonardo simply let it stand.
As if sensing his unease through their joined hands, Hugo, who had been waiting, murmured in a low voice,
"It's enough that you returned safely."
At that nonchalant yet generous voice, Leonardo’s gaze paused, then slowly turned to him. It took him a moment to understand what he’d just heard. A beat later, puzzled light spread through his golden eyes.
Setting aside the fact that Hugo had grasped the real intention behind the question Leonardo couldn’t bring himself to ask, Leonardo had never imagined an answer like this would come, even if Hugo had pressed him. It sounded as if he meant to overlook the fact that Leonardo had left the group for a long time and plainly tried to escape right in front of him.
The silence that followed, and Hugo still looking ahead as they walked—everything made Leonardo wonder if he’d misheard.
With only their linked hands to read Hugo’s thoughts, he unconsciously tightened his grip. The gaze fixed on Hugo’s upright profile was persistent, like it was starving for a reaction.
Hugo felt every bit of it, yet he looked up at the sky for no reason, avoiding Leonardo’s eyes.
Rather than interrogating him about a bitter subject whose reason he seemed to already know, Hugo thought it would be better to spend what little time they had left slowly talking and easing Leonardo’s wariness. That, too, was why they were walking this forest path instead of heading straight to base camp.
Gazing at the picturesque darkness creeping into the sky, Hugo lowered his chin slightly and finally met Leonardo’s eyes. Their gazes collided; he felt the warmth in his hand flinch, and he stroked it gently, as if to steady him.
As he organized his thoughts while looking into those softly shining golden eyes, he opened his mouth at last.
"...As you know, getting separated from the group during a mission in dangerous places like this peninsula happens often. So no matter how long it took you to return, that isn’t what matters."
"..."
"If you came back safe—without getting hurt or dying—that's all that matters."
Leonardo was, in spite of himself, stunned.
If you returned safely, that’s all that matters?
They were touching, welcome words from his side of things, but not something he’d ever expected Hugo to say.
Wasn’t he the meticulous Commander who insisted they verify and prepare for every possible outcome?
Something... wasn’t like him.
But more than that, as he repeated “without dying,” something else surfaced in Leonardo’s mind.
The aftermath that had looked like a storm had passed, and the blood-stained armband of the missing platoon leader they’d found there.
Thinking of the one who could no longer return—unlike himself, who had—Leonardo guessed Hugo probably didn’t know yet. He wondered if he should tell him, but it didn’t feel like the right moment, and he hesitated.
As Leonardo stayed lost in thought without answering, Hugo faced forward again and swept aside the drooping vines blocking the path with a gust of wind. Then, leading them through the gap, he tugged gently on the hand he was holding and went on,
"In the first place, it’s largely my responsibility. I failed to hold on to you properly, and that’s how you were separated from the group. I had no right—nor any intention—to blame or restrain you. I only searched for you, waited for you, and worried about you."
Leonardo’s feet stopped dead.
Hugo, who had unconsciously been matching his pace, had to stop too.
Leonardo turned on him at once, his face subtly twisted as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard.
"You waited for me and worried about me?"
The question came out thick with disbelief. A bitter smile lingered at Hugo’s lips as he looked at him. He understood that reaction after what he himself had done, but it still tasted faintly bitter.
Hoping to ease that disbelief at least a little, Hugo stepped closer. With the hand that ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) wasn’t holding Leonardo, he lifted his fingers and carefully brushed beneath those golden eyes. His lowered gaze followed the touch.
"Yes. I waited and worried."
Tracing the edges of Leonardo’s trembling lashes, Hugo’s hand slid down his cheek and neck and came to rest lightly on his shoulder. Meeting his eyes, he added in a low voice,
"And I’m glad you’re safe like this... and I’m grateful, too."
As that sudden intimacy glided in and brushed his skin without hesitation, Leonardo’s eyes twitched. His lips parted slightly. The words telling him not to lie out of embarrassment climbed to his throat, but wouldn’t leave his mouth.
Truthfully, it wasn’t only that he didn’t believe Hugo. Hearing “waiting” and “worrying” from someone who wasn’t even a colleague, someone he had no real relationship with, felt unfamiliar. Of course, some part of him also wanted to know if it was sincere.
But as that affectionate gaze—leaving no space for doubt—fixed on him alone, Leonardo didn’t know where to put his eyes.
In the unnaturally long silence, he wanted to blurt out anything before his embarrassment showed. Yet the tension riding through their connected fingertips—so different from before—made it hard to open his mouth.
The hand resting on his shoulder should have been light, but with the weight of Hugo’s words, it felt impossibly heavy, pinning him in place. So silence returned, but it wasn’t suffocating the way it had been.
If anything, in this moment of facing each other, every sense felt sharpened, too vivid and too clear.
In the dark forest where they could barely make out each other’s faces, it felt like they were the only two people left on this vast peninsula.
His mind was crowded with thoughts, but maybe because he didn’t want to break this tension, with all his attention caught on their joined hands, he kept the silence—both of them did—as if they’d agreed to it.
Sometimes silence carries more than words, so Hugo decided to set aside, for just a little longer, the things he’d been turning over in his mind to say when they met again.
As if even the creatures in the dense undergrowth were holding their breath, the world around them stayed very still.
This brief moment—like the two of them were all that remained—felt as though it might last forever.
