Bermuda [bl]

A crisp sky, gentle breeze, shade of a parasol, orange juice in a glass.

Leonardo slowly rolled his eyes while fiddling with the condensation on the surface of the glass with both hands.

This was a large garden located in a corner of the annex, peaceful and quiet, with white roses in full bloom. Judging by the majestic main clock tower visible in the distance, it was clearly within the Council, but the surrounding scenery was so different that it could be mistaken for somewhere else due to the vast grounds.

Unlike the garden of the main building where members bustled about, flowers and trees for landscaping were planted in abundance. It felt like being in a private, sun-drenched garden on someone's private property. Except for four members waiting at a distance, no one else was seen passing by.

Thanks to this, sitting at a table placed in the middle of the wide lawn felt like entering a frozen landscape painting. After looking around, Leonardo stared back at the white tablecloth covering his knees.

'I'm dying.'

Behind the bright yellow juice glass that looked refreshing just by sight, fluffy soufflé pancakes and syrup-soaked fruits were beautifully arranged.

The food was soft and tender enough for a patient to eat, but the cold coffee next to the juice caught his attention more.

'I want to hide somewhere.'

As he stared at the mug, he suddenly remembered yesterday's events and squeezed his eyes shut. Then the sound of rustling paper subsided, and soon a concerned voice was heard.

"What's wrong, not feeling well?"

Hugo, who had been working with documents piled on the tea table, asked gently with a worried face. Leonardo didn't know how long he had been watching, but he answered briefly in a tone somewhere between indifference and grumpiness.

"No."

Pretending to be nonchalant, he quickly turned his eyes away and gulped down the orange juice for no reason. It felt very unfamiliar, perhaps because it was the first time he had seen Agrizendro wearing glasses. It might just be him feeling awkward, but unlike yesterday, now that he was back to his senses, it was difficult to make eye contact.

Hugo stared at Leonardo's profile for a while, then took off his glasses, put them down, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Leonardo was inwardly surprised, wondering if his true feelings had been discovered. Yet he still furtively glanced at Hugo.

"They say eating something sweet makes you feel better, why don't you try it? I heard they only sell 30 sets a day. The medical officer gave permission, so don't worry."

Hugo rubbed his tired eyes, crossed his arms, and leaned his upper body on the table. Then he rested his chin on one hand, looking towards Leonardo. It was such an obvious staring posture that Leonardo stubbornly avoided his gaze.

He kept his mouth shut and just glared at the fluffy shape. Limited edition soufflé cake or whatever, who cares even if he was curious.

As he remained motionless like a statue as if in protest, Hugo, who had been watching, silently reached out his hand. His large hand, which made Leonardo flinch, passed by him and picked up a blunt knife to cut the pancake and serve it on the plate in front. He also added plenty of syrup-soaked fruit.

As the pretty plate was pushed towards him, Leonardo, who had been silent, asked:

"Why did you bring me here?"

The hand about to offer the fork paused. Hugo looked at the flower bed beyond Leonardo and said casually:

"Getting some fresh air will make you feel much better. The weather is nice today too."

His final gaze landed on Leonardo's profile, who was occasionally stealing glances at him. As if he already knew about the sidelong glances, he gave a gentle eye smile. Leonardo now openly stared at Hugo. Just looking at that smile made yesterday's events feel like they had never happened.

He wanted to be led by Hugo's consideration and pass it off as if nothing had happened. But his uncertain expression and feelings were already showing all sorts of signs that it was too uncomfortable to just ignore.

Leonardo lowered his head and fidgeted with his fingers. With a gloomy face and downcast eyes, he suddenly asked in a monotone:

"I'm weird, aren't I."

Hugo's lips stiffened for a moment at the sudden question. Before he could grasp the intention behind the question, Leonardo gently applied pressure to his hand that had been scratching the surface of the glass.

"I seem mentally ill."

"What are you saying?"

Hugo furrowed his brow and retorted rather coldly. His voice sounded somewhat stern, causing Leonardo's fidgeting fingers to pause.

"Sometimes I feel that way."

Leonardo, who had been quietly looking at his face reflected in the tableware, continued without making eye contact:

"I don't know where I am or what I'm doing. I'm confused."

His voice was calm but choked, as if his throat was constricted. He stammered on, as if trying to defend his actions:

"I don't remember well what I said. I don't know why my hand is like this. I don't really know why I did that. Just."

"You're not weird at all."

Leonardo unconsciously opened his eyes wide at the straightforward answer that cut off his worries. When he quickly turned his head to look to the side, the uniformed gentleman with a complicated expression spoke calmly:

"It's not like a disease. You're just a bit shocked and tired. Many people become more sensitive than usual when faced with difficult situations."

As he said this, Hugo tilted the curved glass bottle to pour orange juice with ice into Leonardo's cup. This time, Leonardo didn't flinch. They were gradually closing the distance, even if in this manner.

"You were just like that. Of course, your situation was intertwined with bad memories, so it must have been much harder to endure than for others. It's natural for your nerves to be on edge. Anyone would be anxious in such a situation. Nevertheless, you endured it well."

Hugo approached slowly so that the other wouldn't notice.

"As you have done so far, things will get better from now on."

He approached with thorough calculation, as if seeping in.

"By seeing good things, eating good food. As you calm your mind, even if not immediately, there will come days when it gradually fades. Just as wounds heal, humans can also heal pain through forgetting. Then you can fill that space with better memories."

Hugo's large hand was now caressing Leonardo's left palm wrapped in bandages. He thought about going straight to his cheek, but feeling it might be a bit early, he stayed in that spot.

Leonardo blinked slowly while listening attentively to Hugo's words. Following his relaxing heart, he gently grasped the thick fingers that had come into his hand and muttered:

"The things I said yesterday."

His golden eyes, glancing back hesitantly, were full of regret.

"That was nonsense. I don't really think that way."

The clear eyes within his drooping gaze looked up at Hugo sitting close by.

"...You know that, right?"

He asked tentatively, as if seeking confirmation.

Hugo closed his lips that were about to part slightly and slowly moved his Adam's apple. Then he smiled gently and answered in a warm voice:

"Of course, I know that."

He said earlier that he didn't remember what he had said, yet adorably, his words were contradictory. It was clear that Leonardo remembered that moment as vividly as Hugo did. But Hugo decided to pretend not to notice.

Of course, he didn't know if it was really just a slip of the tongue, or if his usual true feelings had inadvertently come out. He didn't think those feelings were completely nonexistent. But he didn't feel resentful towards Leonardo either. Right now, he was overjoyed just to have those golden eyes looking at him fully.

"Try it."

Hugo gestured towards the plate with the pancakes and urged him again. He wanted to maintain this peaceful atmosphere. However, Leonardo still just stared blankly.

He repeatedly clenched and unclenched his empty right hand, then placed the fork that was resting on the plate at the edge of the table. He had preemptively removed the potential weapon just in case. Just as Hugo was giving him a puzzled look, Leonardo made a firm decision and opened his mouth:

"There's something I want to ask."

Hugo sensed that the time had come.

"Go ahead."

Instead of questioning, he calmly answered as if he had been waiting. Leonardo seemed a bit surprised but asked as if he had also been waiting:

"Why did you draw my blood? Was it really for an examination?"

Hugo's eyebrows rose slightly at Leonardo's statement, which seemed to assume there was another purpose.

"Of course. What other reason would there be for drawing blood if not for an examination?"

"Then why did you make me take sleeping pills?"

"Because I thought you might feel averse to the blood draw."

"Was there no other way?"

"...I suppose not."

"It would have been better if you had told me in advance."

There was a hint of resentment in his intense gaze. However, Hugo couldn't deny that he had been doubtful all along: 'If I had told you in advance, would you have complied willingly?' But this wasn't a conversation meant for arguing. If he had decided to trust him, the responsibility lay largely with Hugo for not speaking first and ordering the blood draw.

"You're right. It would have been better if I had told you in advance. I'm sorry."

Instead of adding excuses, Hugo offered an apology in a solemn tone. It was uncertain whether Leonardo would have allowed the blood draw, but persuading him, even if it took time, would have been the right approach.

Perhaps because there wasn't much time left between them, and questions about the handcuffs kept piling up. It seemed he had made a hasty judgment. Hugo squeezed Leonardo's hand tightly and conveyed once more:

"I'm sorry, Leonardo."

At this, Leonardo, who had been looking at him sharply, hesitated and let out a low sigh.

'I'm so weak to apologies.'

Maybe because it was a word he didn't often hear, or perhaps because it was this person saying it, but just seeing Agrizendro apologizing to him made his heart soften. Amusingly.

'Is it because he's handsome?'

Leonardo frowned at the silly thought and turned his head away. Then suddenly, he recalled the moment when drowsiness had overcome him on the day they returned from Fidele. He had been meaning to ask about that all along, so Leonardo turned back to Hugo and opened his mouth:

"Then, in Fidele–"

"I have something I want to ask too."

However, because Hugo started speaking at almost the same time, Leonardo couldn't finish his sentence properly. Rather, as the other asked in a serious tone with a heavy atmosphere, Leonardo felt somewhat overwhelmed by the momentum.

Hugo's face, which had been gentle until just a moment ago, was nowhere to be seen, and he now gave a somewhat stiff gaze. The two fingers that had been held by Leonardo had now expanded their territory to grasp his entire hand.

It was such an intense feeling, as if he might devour him, that Leonardo, who had been glancing down, met his eyes and answered reluctantly:

"...What?"

Hugo held back his words and took a moment to be cautious. Eventually, recalling Leonardo's suffering appearance, he made up his mind and asked quietly:

"Who is 'that bastard' you mentioned?"