CHAPTER 51: I’LL WATCH HIM FOR A LITTLE LONGER. JUST A LITTLE LONGER.

Clearing up a misunderstanding was, no matter how one looked at it, a behavior Taras could only show toward people whose opinion he cared about, and precisely because of that, he had no intention of making any sort of explanation to Le An.

Besides, every single expression his mind could conjure up about how Treasure might look right now, under the false impression that Taras had truly killed him this time, filled him with a dark kind of pleasure and satisfaction... Of course, Taras wouldn’t offer an explanation unless he was asked.

And yet, now, every moment replaying in his mind from that room, every expression on Treasure’s face, no longer felt like fire lighting up his brain; Taras was tired of imagining what expression Treasure might be wearing now. Maybe it was time to pay him a visit. And if it was time to receive guiding from him, then that time had already passed long ago.

Taras could now feel the tension that had been gradually accumulating inside him since that last visit to the guiding center, no, even from long before, due to never being guided recently. Treasure had neglected his responsibilities, hadn’t he?

While holding one invitation soaked in blood and the other perfectly clean, Taras was thinking that the fact he had saved Treasure changed nothing, changed no role. Yes. Le An was still the victim, and he was still the predator.

This reckoning between them only lingered on the edge of a true one; as for the real revenge plan, before the world turned upside down, Taras was simply bearing witness to Treasure’s crumbling life, collapsing fame, and broken world.

And now, perhaps, it was also time for a few new responsibilities to be added to Treasure’s plate. Taras shifted into his shadow form without waiting any longer and merged into the sky, the navy sky, just beginning to be swallowed by darkness, making his way there. To cleanse all the filth at the top, someone from the inside had to leak information, and now, through this experiment, all that filth had converged around Le An.

Once the inner workings of the experiment were tied together with all the other illegal activities of the major brands, institutions, and figures that sponsored it, and once it was proven that the state itself was involved, many people, unable to hold on to their seats, would get what they deserved.

But for a greater blow, for power to truly collapse, and for the opposition to come into control under the condition that the outskirts be acknowledged again, dirtier secrets had to be revealed.

And because Treasure breathed the same air as those people, he was the most convenient figure to leak this information to Taras from the inside.

Would he cooperate? Taras thought. Even if he didn’t, by now, he had accepted that he had no choice. He can’t run from me. There’s nowhere left to run. There won’t be.

And maybe, if he uses his head and leaks information, perhaps in the new order, there might be a place for him, too. Hah...

Taras’s shadow form reached Le An’s home and slipped directly inside without wasting any time.

Even if he doesn’t deserve it, I might grant him a place. Even if it’s a mercy for him...

But at this very hour, the "victim" who was supposed to be waiting quietly in his room was no longer there. Taras returned to human form and paced the room; though he knew Le An wasn’t there, his feet carried him unconsciously toward the bed.

Why, after just a few days, had Treasure forgotten his responsibility to guide Taras at midnight?

Tsk

. Taras looked at his watch. It wasn’t midnight yet.

He turned back into shadow and left the room, trying to pick out his voice from among the sounds reaching his ears, that delicate, hesitant voice, while drifting around. After the attack, the number of guards around Treasure’s house had nearly doubled. As Taras slipped through the crowd surrounding the building, not a single one of them noticed his presence.

Later, even if he didn’t find him, from others talking about him, he heard that Treasure was somewhere in the garden, and the shadow passed between freshly pruned shrubs and the draping branches of willow trees old enough to cover the sky.

"Ursula, has Treasure not had dinner yet tonight?"

"He didn’t have much of an appetite tonight, sir."

"Hah... That’s what he said yesterday, too. At this rate, Treasure’s going to waste away to skin and bones! Take this tray out to the garden; maybe these pastries will change his mind."

Treasure’s garden was far bigger than his house, perhaps even the most luxurious thing that could be said to belong to him. It was so carefully tended that, right now, one could easily host a banquet in it as if it were the garden of a castle.

When Le An’s small, crouching figure came into the shadow’s line of sight, Taras slowed down and noticed the other guards in the garden subtly forming a distant circle around him. One of those guards, secretly watching Le An, was Theo. The voice of the guard beside him reached Taras’s ears.

"Aren’t you going to go to him?"

Unaware of the shadow gliding along the branches above him, Theo smiled, eyes glued to Le An.

No matter how you looked at it, wasn’t that smile a bit too relaxed and carefree, considering all that had happened? The shadow drew even closer, right up to the worthless guards’ feet.

"I told you it would pass with time," said the one beside Theo, hands in his pockets, a smile on his face. "He’ll understand why we did all this. And that he has to accept it."

Theo nodded. Le An, as if his knees had given out, slowly sat down on the soil, and all eyes watching him were drawn to the pained expression on his face. Theo’s smile faded. Le An must still have been hurting.

A moment later, a kitchen staff member came by with the pastries for Le An. Theo looked at them, then nodded and took the tray from the worker.

"I’ll give it to him. You may go."

As Theo moved, Taras watched another man move as well, approaching to stand beside him. Theo’s face stiffened even more as the two of them headed toward Le An.

"Le An."

"Treasure."

Le An jumped at the voices calling to him from behind and turned to see the newcomers: Theo and the newly appointed tracker.

Theo knelt beside Le An, placed the tray down, and looked at the flower seedling Le An had been tending. He smiled. "It’s grown."

"Ah, yes..." Le An turned back toward his task, gave a brief glance to the tracker, and continued what he was doing.

"The pastries are really delicious, you should try them, Treasure," said the tracker.

Though his face wasn’t familiar, Taras quickly understood what his role was. He had already guessed the GAC would assign someone to tail Le An, but the fact that this tracker’s mission didn’t even allow him to leave Le An alone with close ones had far exceeded his expectations.

And from the strange expression on Treasure’s face, it was clear he wasn’t fond of it either. "Thank you. If you like them so much, feel free to eat them yourself."

As Theo and the tracker stood awkwardly behind Le An, neither Theo nor Le An made any move to start a conversation. The tracker looked back and forth between them, and as the air grew more uncomfortable, Theo sighed and stepped away from Le An. "I’ll see you, Le An."

But the tracker stayed. It was clear from his efforts to start a conversation with Le An and lighten the awkward air between them that he wanted to build some rapport.

"Ah, this... You mentioned it was an endemic species, right?"

"Yes," said Le An, turning to the man again. "Its roots have grown strong enough, so I’ll be moving it to my room now," he added politely.

The man looked pleased, as if he hadn’t expected such a long answer, and said something else.

"The petals... are they purple or blue?"

"Purple."

"Hm... yes, now that I look more closely..." The man crouched beside Le An and looked at the delicate flower on a thin stem that seemed ready to faint.

"Definitely purple. But... it looks very frail!"

Le An turned his gaze to the man, as if trying to judge the sincerity of his comment, and finally smiled, as if lowering his guard.

"Because it doesn’t belong to this climate or soil," said Le An, pointing to the flower’s petals and making a gesture as though caressing it without touching. "But its roots are stronger than they look."

The man returned Le An’s smile with a fatherly expression, as if amused by a child’s precociousness. Le An, now a bit more eager, picked up his trowel and made a circle around the flower with its tip.

With very careful movements, he plunged his hands into the soil around the flower and dug with his fingers. Finally, he lifted the clump of earth holding the roots, revealing in his hands a root far wider and longer than expected, veiny like the shadow of a tree. Such a strong root for such a small flower surprised even the man.

"Wow..."

Le An’s smile neither grew nor faded. As he brushed the dirt from the root, he seemed to recall what this man’s job was, and straightened up. He gestured with his chin toward the pot filled with soil beside them. The tracker, saying nothing more, helped Le An replant the flower in the pot, sensing he had been allowed just enough closeness for today.

"Thank you," said Le An with a gentle smile that concealed a curious distance but showed no sign of trouble.

The man understood it was time to leave. Thus, he stepped away from Le An and moved to another corner of the garden, close enough to see, far enough not to disturb.

Only the shadow stayed close, hovering above Le An. Its gaze went to Le An’s dirt-covered hands, watching as he gazed at the flower pot in his lap with a different smile, one carrying no hidden meaning, just pure simplicity.

"Let’s go to our room," Le An whispered. He was talking to the flower, wasn’t he?

Taras followed Le An and the potted flower back into the room. He watched him wash his hands, clean the pot, try a few spots, and finally place the pot on a table among the others, smiling from afar. First, Le An had put the pot on his bedside table, then changed his mind and moved it to the table.

Satisfied with its new spot, Le An sat in the chair beside the table and slowly pulled his knees up to his chest. When he began talking to the flower again, Taras realized this wasn’t a one-off; Le An had a habit of talking to his plants.

"I was worried the outside might be too chilly for you, but..." Le An rested his head on his knees, smiling as he looked at the flower. "You’re not a weak flower at all. Do you like it here? The flowers around you are your friends, okay? Listen,"

With a comical seriousness, as if about to give advice, Le An kept talking to the flower.

"They might find you a bit strange at first. Don’t mind them... Okay? They’re good plants. You’ll get along. I put you among them so you wouldn’t feel alone, since you’re an endemic species. Okay?"

Okay? Le An kept asking for confirmation, like he really believed the flower could reply. Taras felt this moment wasn’t quite the time to reveal his presence.

Not yet... a little longer. I’ll watch him for a little longer.

Le An straightened up again, reached for the flower’s single opened petal, but as if he couldn’t bring himself to touch it, he stopped. Smiling, he pulled his fingers back.

"Don’t worry about water or sunlight. I’ll take good care of you. Just focus on growing, alright?"

Taras watched as Le An slowly stood up from the chair and looked at the time. Midnight hadn’t come yet. Right at that moment, Taras knew Le An was checking the time for him, looking out the window for him... and that stirred something strange inside him.

It made everything he had thought since arriving here feel wasted, disproven, and rejected.

When Le An’s hands went to the hem of his shirt, Taras snapped out of his thoughts and found his eyes lingering on Le An’s lightly bruised torso, his nipples, and finally, as Le An slowly lifted his arms to take off the shirt, his visible ribs.

Le An took off his shirt and, as if he were being watched, hurriedly reached for a new one. Taras’s gaze followed the longer hair at the back of Le An’s neck spilling over his skin, the pink hue on his elbows and shoulders, and once again, his pink nipples, brushing against the new shirt for a moment before disappearing.

Though it wasn’t yet midnight, Le An now sat in the middle of his bed, doing nothing, just waiting, as if expecting something. As the shadow deepened, Taras still had no intention of stepping out from it.

He wondered how many days now Le An had been waiting for him like this. Sitting there like a fool, doing nothing, fidgeting with his fingers, unable to control the expression on his face, how long had he waited?

Midnight struck. Le An’s eyes kept flitting to the window; sometimes he fixed his clothes, sometimes he froze completely, a broken expression flickering in his eyes.

Minutes passed. Ten minutes past midnight. Le An was still waiting.

Half an hour past midnight, Le An no longer looked at the window at all, just at the ground.

One, two hours past midnight, and Le An’s heartbeat was now slower than before; his head sometimes drooped forward, jerking awake from sleep.

Exactly two hours passed, and when an alarm rang from Le An’s clock, Taras realized he had set an alarm just to wait for him. Two hours. The turmoil that had built inside Taras, watching all this, now pressed painfully against his chest.

The silent wandering of Le An’s sleep and sorrow-laden eyes, and the way he sometimes smiled to himself as if responding to some thought, Taras’s patience was running out.

Ten minutes after the alarm rang, Le An finally moved from where he sat. He slowly changed back into his pajamas. So, he had worn that shirt thinking Taras might come.

As Taras suppressed the ache stabbing the center of his chest, he watched Le An turn off the room light and slip into bed.

The moment Le An lay down, he fell asleep.