“I can’t leave you alone because I’m worried. You almost died because of that amplifier, didn’t you?”
Hugo’s voice, which had been about to rise, made Leonardo feel he was holding a lot back. As talk of “worry” and “death” hit him head-on, Leonardo’s eyelids twitched for a moment.
His lips moved reflexively, but this time he couldn’t refute anything. Partly because it was true, but also because the other’s emotions came surging through the arm that held him.
Leonardo’s expression abruptly hardened. Hugo consciously loosened his grip in response. Yet his lowered voice, deliberately feigning calm, began to list one by one the things they had been avoiding talking about.
“I don’t think you’ll deny it either. No—actually, you probably know it best. Right after dealing with the mother body, you were on the brink of going berserk. There were moments when you lost your mind, and you even choked yourself.”
Unlike before, Hugo’s gaze dropped straight to Leonardo’s neck. Leonardo flinched and reflexively lifted an arm to cover the area. His hand fumbled over the skin already hidden by bandages and collar, as if trying to conceal it again.
Seeing that, Hugo let out a complicated sigh and spoke softly.
“...I won’t ask why you did it. You probably weren’t in your right mind then. But whether it was something you did unconsciously or not, for a moment, you tried to give up on yourself.”
“...”
“Leo... answer me. Do you really think everything ended well? There are still finger marks that haven’t faded from your neck, and bruises like tattoos are still mottled there, aren’t they?”
Hugo’s tone was by no means agitated. Still, the explicit words he laid out one by one—combined with that unnaturally calm voice—made the air feel even heavier.
The more Leonardo heard Hugo, the deeper he sank into shame and self-loathing. Even earlier, when he’d washed and the medical ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) officers had rewrapped his bandages, he had deliberately ignored the marks on his neck.
As if everyone had agreed, no one asked about them, so he thought that if he just pretended not to know, it could pass as if nothing had happened. But when Agrizendro mentioned it openly, an indescribable embarrassment washed over him, and his head bowed on its own.
Hugo sighed again and rubbed his face. This was why he had indirectly pressured him to hand over the amplifier, using unnecessary words like serious crime or punishment.
He didn’t want to throw heavier words at someone who had truly come back from the brink of death. And they both knew how sensitive this topic was—for him and for Leonardo.
But the water had already been spilled. Hugo looked at the silent Leonardo, then shifted his gaze toward the orange light, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again.
“Hah— it’s okay. Yes, all of that is okay. Because I was by your side then. ...As you said, in the end the mother body died, and above all, you’re safe, so nothing else matters.”
Remembering how dire it had been, Hugo barely swallowed the many words he wanted to say. He hoped Leonardo, listening, wouldn’t be hurt or discouraged any further.
Instead, as he spoke candidly, he lowered his eyes to Leonardo again. Then he cupped the beautiful face that had grown gaunt over the past few days and slowly lifted his chin, making him look at him.
“But in the future, I might not be by your side.”
Hugo caught his breath, then delivered the words in an even lower voice. At that, Leonardo’s eyes wavered slightly.
Maybe it was the lamp, but the blue eyes he faced seemed warmer today—almost hot. In that strange heat was the other’s sincerity, rarely shown.
“If you take drugs like the amplifier again and lose control, reaching the brink of going berserk. If this subjugation ends and we part ways, and I can no longer be by your side.”
“...”
“Who will protect you then?”
Hugo’s grip on Leonardo’s arm tightened. Yet the touch and gaze holding Leonardo’s face were full of care.
So Leonardo felt a sharp tingling, but no pain. Still confused, not knowing how to answer, he watched as Hugo, eyes twisted, blurted out as if confessing:
“In this empire, I’m the only one who can handle you—so who on earth will take responsibility for you if I’m not there?”
With those words, silence hung between them for a while. The air, heavier still, tangled in the space between their crossed gazes.
Leonardo, his upper body awkwardly tilted forward under the large hand holding him, felt conflicted at the concern Hugo had laid bare.
If he’d heard this a little earlier, he might have snapped again, his pride wounded. Not long ago, he had been disappointed on his own, thinking that his existence—like a foreign substance in this subjugation force—might be a burden even Agrizendro couldn’t handle.
But now was different. The other’s voice, which sounded like a question, was colored more by concern than anger. He had heard the other’s inner thoughts several times before, and he had seen the sincerity in his eyes and voice. And now, it would be foolish to get angry over fragmentary words from someone who was worrying for him with all his heart.
Hah... why did I, again.
Leonardo felt a little ashamed of his earlier flare-up. He knew this person wasn’t someone who would punish him. Yet he regretted his impulsive behavior—misreading things and snapping back for no reason.
Because of that, it felt awkward to meet his gaze, and he looked down at the innocent floor. As he cast meaningless glances, not knowing where to put his eyes, his gaze naturally landed on Hugo’s forearm, where the veins stood out.
In that moment, Leonardo’s mind flew back inside the barrier, where the volcanic eruption had been raging. The image of Hugo clinging to him and pleading with him not to run away flickered before his eyes.
Back then, no red marks had been visible between the torn battle uniform, but faint traces of burns remained on the forearm beneath the short sleeve.
Leonardo’s expression twisted as if in pain. Those were surely wounds he had caused.
“That...”
He wanted to ask if it was okay, but the words wouldn’t come—tangled up with regret and self-loathing.
The person in front of him must have watched every bit of his pathetic self on the brink of going berserk. Worse, once, his uncontrollable power had flown toward him, almost harming him with his own hands.
If the other really had been a Commander who cared only about right and wrong, with no regard for his position, he might have collected mana or blood to check for the possibility of going berserk the moment Leonardo woke. Or he might have put handcuffs on him to prevent any unfortunate incidents in advance. After all, Leonardo himself had thought of the possibility of going berserk as soon as he wondered about his damaged voice.
But from the time he woke up until now, Agrizendro had never mentioned it even once. He had nagged him to eat well to recover, pushing soup at him, but he had never brought up anything that would make him self-conscious.
As he reflected, Leonardo could sense it—vaguely. That Hugo had been intentionally silent about going berserk. At the same time, it occurred to him that the words that had grated on his nerves—crime and punishment—had actually been meant to circle around the real point.
Leonardo squeezed his eyes shut, pressing a hand to his throbbing forehead as his heart grew heavy. Then Hugo, letting out a deep sigh, suddenly broke the silence before it could stretch on.
“No, Leonardo. ...Forget what I said.”
The large hand gripping his forearm slowly slipped away. Afraid that might mean he wouldn’t even talk to him, Leonardo quickly lifted his head, following the retreating hand.
Hugo pushed away the side table he had pulled closer and stood up. Running a hand lightly through his hair, he looked down at Leonardo with a more relaxed face and said:
“I think I said something unnecessary. There was no need to bring that up.”
