"Why are you here?" Rhys asked.
He was sitting on the metal plate, while Eun-woo sat on the floor in front of him. Eun-woo had one of the blankets over his shoulders and was absentmindedly playing with his toes, as if it were the only way he could keep himself occupied.
"I don't know."
Rhys grimaced as he scanned the engraving on the wall. Genesis Project. Apparently, Eun-woo didn't know what it meant.
"And you?" Eun-woo said.
The Guide sank to the ground and sat back on his heels. He looked at Eun-woo with a playful smile.
"I'm a bad boy."
Eun-woo nodded without taking his eyes off his feet.
Luckily, he didn't see that smile. Otherwise, his face would be burning up. He was beginning to believe he'd contracted some mysterious illness, the symptoms of which only made themselves felt when Rhys looked at him.
He didn't understand Rhys's response. His companion claimed to be "bad," but unlike the Men in White or his own parents, Rhys was kind to him.
He didn't yell at him when he made mistakes. He didn't push him or force him to be quiet.
He never took away his food, never woke him up abruptly, nor looked at him with the disinterest Eun-woo had seen on his own parents' faces.
Rhys spoke to him calmly, offered him his blanket when he was cold, and explained things without making fun of him. To Eun-woo, that was kindness.
I don't care that Rhys is a bad boy.
"Can I sit next to you?" Rhys asked after a few minutes.
Eun-woo looked up, but instead of looking at his face, he stared at the wall behind him. Having him around made him feel strange.
His heart beat faster than usual; his cheeks warmed for no apparent reason, and no matter how hard he tried to stay calm, he felt nervous.
Symptoms of an unknown disease.
He didn't know why, but whenever Rhys leaned toward him or spoke softly, he felt a tingling sensation ran down the back of his neck. That's why he preferred to stare at the wall or keep his hands busy.
It was easier to pretend nothing was wrong when those eyes weren't on him.
"Yes," Eun-woo replied.
Rhys picked up his blanket before sitting next to Eun-woo, close enough that their legs touched. Then, he wrapped an arm around his back and gently pulled him towards him, until their shoulders bumped.
Eun-woo instantly tensed, his heart beating faster than usual. A mixture of nervousness and excitement fluttered in his chest and stomach, as if his body didn't know whether to escape or stay there forever.
The proximity disconcerted him… but he didn't want to leave.
On the contrary, he wanted to stay with his partner a little longer.
"This way we'll be less cold," Rhys assured.
Eun-woo snuggled into Rhys's shoulder and sighed with relief. The warmth of Rhys's body was intoxicating, not to mention his scent and the rhythmic beating of his heart along with the softness of his breathing.
Until that moment, Eun-woo realized how aware he was of his partner's presence.
It was as if they were two halves of a single piece, opposites that fit together naturally. When they were together, everything made sense.
They couldn't get enough of each other's company, and every day, even if it happened in the same old place, felt like a little adventure.
With Rhys, routine was broken up and turned into something exciting.
Eun-woo slowly closed his eyes, allowing himself to be enveloped by Rhys's warmth. For the first time in a long time, he stopped counting the seconds. Being with Rhys, he no longer needed to measure time to endure it.
It was simply allowed to exist.
And so, without realizing it, he succumbed to sleep.
***
Pale moonlight streamed through the small cell window, bathing Eun-woo in a soft, silvery glow. Rhys carefully moved away, not wanting to disturb his companion's moment of peace.
From above, he watched him sleep and felt his heart clench.
Eun-woo had a serene face, with delicate facial features that gave him a subtle and mesmerizing beauty.
His eyes, slightly slanted and dark as ink, seemed to conceal entire worlds behind their apparent calm.
His straight, small nose blended with his soft cheekbones and a fine, barely defined jaw, giving his profile an ethereal air.
His lips, pink and perfectly shaped, contrasted with the paleness of his skin, which looked like it hadn't felt the sun in years.
His long, messy black hair fell in clumps over his forehead and around his shoulders, unruly and unkempt, but that only added to a wild air that Rhys found attractive.
There was something else about him that made it impossible for Rhys to look away. His heart ached at the fragility of the moment, silently wishing he could protect him, ease his fears, and restore the peace he deserved.
Don't get attached, he repeated himself incessantly.
He wasn't there to protect Eun-woo.
His mission was cruelly simple: kill him.
Eun-woo was dangerous.
Rhys knew it from the first moment he saw him. Despite his fragile appearance, the way he tangled up in his own words, and the fear he tried to hide behind his large, dark eyes, Eun-woo was no ordinary prisoner.
He was the last Esper alive.
The rest had been exterminated during the early stages of the war, considered too unstable, too unpredictable, or… too powerful.
And the few who remained alive were unable to bear children because of the disease that wiped out fertile living beings.
But Eun-woo had somehow survived. Not because of luck. Not because of compassion. He'd been kept alive for a reason Rhys still didn't fully understand.
Blackwood kept him in isolation, under constant surveillance, without testing, without training, without exploiting his abilities. Just locked away.
And that was the most disturbing thing of all. Because an esper like him, even untrained, represented a threat of unimaginable proportions. If the regime decided to use him, if they turned him into a living weapon, there would be no resistance that could stop them.
Rhys didn't understand why they hadn't done it already.
What did they expect?
What was stopping Blackwood?
Rhys didn't know.
A soft knock sounded from the door, barely a metallic whisper that broke the silence.
Rhys looked away from Eun-woo, frowning, and walked over to the grate. Peeking inside, he saw a syringe freshly placed on the sliding metal tray.
He closed his eyes and sighed.
I can do it.
Rhys leisurely took the syringe and returned to Eun-woo's side. He knelt beside him and gently extended his right arm. He carefully inserted the needle, injecting the contents into his bloodstream.
Eun-woo frowned slightly, moving barely, but he didn't wake up.
After making sure everything was in order, Rhys stood up, returned to the door, and placed the empty syringe on the metal rack.
A sharp click announced that the lock had given way.
The door opened with a slow creak, and on the other side, three soldiers stood waiting, standing like statues. They all wore the same green military uniform, their .22-caliber machine guns resting in their hands.
They didn't seem willing to waste time.
They looked at Eun-woo with disdain, as if he were nothing more than trash, then focused on Rhys.
"Mr. Blackwood is expecting you for dinner," one of them reported in a neutral tone.
Rhys held his gaze a second longer than necessary. He nodded, his jaw tight, but he didn't move. For a moment, the air in the cell felt thick.
As the soldiers parted to let him pass, Rhys slowly turned his head toward Eun-woo. He was still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm, oblivious to what was happening around him.
Was it really a danger?
A weapon waiting to be activated?
Everything about him screamed otherwise.
Rhys swallowed hard. For the first time since receiving the order, a crack formed in the certainty of his mission.
What was there about that boy that prevented him from acting coldly?
What part of him was beginning to fail?
Rhys was supposed to be a trained assassin, a soldier who feigned obedience to Blackwood, but whose loyalty lay with the rebels.
He had repeated that mantra silently for years, using it as a shield to endure the orders he received in Blackwood's army.
He wasn't one of them.
It never was.
But if he really was one of the good guys, why did he have such a cruel order in his hands?
What kind of rebel saved the world by sacrificing someone like Eun-woo?
He clenched his fists.
It was not the time to doubt.
He shouldn't feel anything.
And yet, as he crossed the threshold, he knew that something inside him had already begun to change.
That might be the last time Rhys would see Eun-woo alive.
And for the first time… He wasn't sure he wanted to allow it.