Bermuda

“Yeah....”

Leonardo trailed off, his voice indistinct. For no real reason, he brushed over the buttons, the pin, and the belt laid out on the side table before the mirror. Hugo had already gathered every trace that proved he had been here.

Still unable to let go of the feel of silk in his hand, he eventually placed the tie neatly beside Hugo’s belongings as well. Then, nudging a couple of loose buttons rolling nearby with his fingertips, he asked,

“But what about the ones that got torn? You can’t go to the meeting like that.”

It was a childish impulse. He knew Hugo had to go, but he wanted to hold him there just a little longer.

As if he had noticed, Hugo—who had been pushing the remaining moisture and traces on the floor to one side—glanced over.

Without answering, he moved to the corner of the Locker Room. Like before, he froze the impurities he had gathered into a solid mass and crushed them with brute force, then retrieved something instead.

It was a spray-type pain reliever that Ero had quietly left behind earlier.

“What’s that for?”

Leonardo tilted his head at the item in Hugo’s hand. The man, who had approached him from behind at some point, placed the spray on the side table along with his belongings.

“My attendant will be here soon. He’ll bring a change of clothes.”

“...Your attendant? When did you call him?”

At the unexpected answer, Leonardo asked back. Hugo, leaning forward, picked up the dark blue tie that had been left alone.

Leonardo watched, thinking he might put it on over the wrinkled shirt—but that didn’t seem to be the case. Hugo pulled at both ends, carefully checking for any remaining stains on its surface. Then, as if testing something, he placed the silk lightly against Leonardo’s neck.

“I told him in advance. If I didn’t return within an hour, he was to come here.”

“......”

“I also instructed him to bring your clothes, so don’t worry.”

At that meticulous answer, Leonardo found himself unable to respond easily.

Listening to him, it didn’t feel like this had simply happened by chance...

Did he expect it to turn out like this?

If that were true, it was a little frightening. There was no telling how far ahead this man had already seen.

“Still, this needs to be taken care of first.”

In the meantime, Hugo had neatly smoothed out the silk and began tying the tie around Leonardo’s flushed neck himself. A tie over a naked body wrapped only in a towel—it was as unbalanced as an apron on bare skin. As the soft fabric brushed over his damp skin like flowing water, Leonardo’s attention was drawn entirely to it.

Not knowing what he was doing, he simply stared. Meeting his questioning gaze, Hugo added briefly,

“I don’t have a handkerchief right now.”

As the long strip of fabric loosely wrapped around his neck, it gradually concealed the marks left behind and the choker. It wasn’t quite the same as a handkerchief, but layered like that, the tie worked well enough. Hugo finished by fastening it in place with the laurel pin at the end.

Leonardo flinched, worried the cold metal might touch his skin, but it didn’t. Hugo had slipped the pin between layers of fabric so it wouldn’t scratch him. Even in such a small act, his precision stood out.

Soon, Hugo stepped back and narrowed his eyes slightly, rubbing his chin.

“Hmm... this way of wearing it isn’t bad either.”

Admiring his own handiwork, he murmured with satisfaction. Leonardo, who had half-turned his head to look, raised one eyebrow.

“...Are you messing with me right now?”

The corner of his lips trembled faintly. As he kept glancing at the mirror, he caught sight of something resembling a ribbon tied at the back of his neck beneath the layers of fabric. If it had been tied at the front, he could at least pass it off as a bow tie.

“You expect me to walk around like this? What am I, a kid?”

“It’ll be hidden once you’re dressed. What’s the problem?”

Unlike the huffing Leonardo, Hugo let out a low laugh. As he examined the finished result from different angles, he firmly stopped Leonardo’s hand when he tried to undo the ribbon.

“It’s pretty.”

It sounded like a command. It looked good, so leave it as it is.

At that, Leonardo’s hand—about to tear at the knot—stopped as if by magic. His expression twisted in disbelief.

That word—pretty...

Grumbling under his breath, he inwardly criticized Hugo’s questionable taste. It felt like he’d been turned into a doll for dress-up play. A laurel pin, a ribbon tie.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Quite.”

Unlike Leonardo, who felt embarrassed, Hugo’s curved blue eyes were filled with satisfaction. Even as Leonardo tried to argue, something about that reaction held him back, and he could only glare without undoing the knot.

Maybe it was because he had already done so many things today that he normally wouldn’t... seeing how pleased Hugo looked, he felt like maybe he could let this one slide just once.

Come to think of it, that silk blouse from the villa too...

So this really is his taste?

The image of that delicate clothing overlapped with his own awkward reflection in the mirror. Suddenly too embarrassed to face it, Leonardo lowered the corners of his lips and turned his head away. At that moment, the hand that had been brushing his nape slid a little lower.

Startled, Leonardo immediately grabbed at the towel.

“Hey, what are you—”

Thinking it was heading toward his swollen chest, he tensed sharply, but instead, the hand moved toward his shoulder.

Caught off guard by the sudden shift, he couldn’t stop it in time. Hugo pulled the towel down from Leonardo’s body.

Srrk—

His left shoulder, which had been hidden, was exposed under the bright lights. The skin, stretched and tightened, was flushed redder than usual.

“......”

The scar was unmistakably severe at a glance, and silence fell between them for a moment.

Even in the Shower Room, when his entire body had been soaked, this was the one place Leonardo had stubbornly kept covered.

Realizing too late what had happened, he tried to cover it again, but once revealed, it could not be hidden. Hugo’s hand gripping the towel clenched tightly, refusing to let go.

As Hugo’s gaze grew heavier on the scar, Leonardo, sensing it, spoke with slight discomfort.

“What are you doing?”

“......”

“It’s not like you’ve never seen it before.”

Avoiding his gaze, he turned his body halfway away. Hugo followed the guarded profile with his eyes, then instead of answering, bent down and pressed close behind him. Wrapping both arms around Leonardo’s upper body from behind, he held the swollen shoulder gently across the front of his collarbone so it wouldn’t hurt.

Then, naturally, he pressed his lips onto the exposed scar.

“Ugh—”

Leonardo, who had been standing still, flinched sharply. His eyelids trembled at the overwhelming sensation. Instinctively, he grabbed Hugo’s wrist, gripping it as if to break it—but Hugo paid no mind, his tongue slipping out between his lips.

It traced along the uneven texture of the skin, then the tip pressed against a particularly reddened spot and rubbed slowly.

“Ah... ngh—”

At times, he lightly sucked at it, as if leaving a mark. Each time, goosebumps ran down Leonardo’s spine and arms. Frozen as if a vital point had been seized, he shut his eyes tightly and trembled.

“What... are you doing.”

The slick warmth moved over the sensitive area again and again. Before, he might have actually broken his bones. It was that unfamiliar and shudder-inducing.

But as each damp trail passed, the spots soaked in saliva cooled, the heat drawn away. As it continued, the lingering ache in his shoulder was gradually pushed aside by a different kind of stimulation. It spread like the soothing burn of ointment.

Suddenly, an image flickered through Leonardo’s mind—himself, on the verge of death in the hut at Fidele.

And the faint memory of Hugo behind him, firmly in place, drawing out poison with his mouth.

Then he realized that this strange act was, in some way, a similar form of treatment.

The grip on Hugo’s wrist loosened.

After a while, Hugo, who had been absorbed in it, lifted his gaze over Leonardo’s shoulder.

“When did this start?”

As the golden eyes in the mirror avoided him, Hugo instead met them directly and asked coldly,

“When did it start?”

“...During the match. How did you know?”

“You don’t say anything when you’re in pain.”

He had thought he hadn’t shown it, but apparently it had been obvious. Hugo’s voice carried a faint sigh of frustration.

“You’re sharp most of the time, but when it comes to this, you act like an idiot.”

He was the one who was hurt, yet somehow it felt like he was being scolded. Unintentionally cast as the one at fault, Leonardo pouted.

“I told you, it’s nothing serious...”

At his sulky muttering, Hugo clicked his tongue. Even so, he pressed his lips to the skin once more, as if to deliver the final breath of treatment. Only when the swelling and heat had subsided somewhat did he finally pull back.

Straightening up, he gently stroked Leonardo’s shoulder.

“Before you go, make a few promises with me.”

With a stream of water he conjured in his hand, he wiped away the saliva covering the treated area, then picked up the spray from earlier and applied it broadly over the scar.

“No drinking for a while. And don’t overuse your left arm.”

“I was going to do that anyway.”

At the curt reply, Hugo’s blue gaze sharpened.

“Then why didn’t you say anything about this?”

“...You don’t tell me everything either.”

“You really never let a word go, do you.”

They exchanged retorts. Their gazes met in the mirror, sharp but not without affection. Just as Hugo was about to get drawn into the childish back-and-forth, he relented first.

“Lift your arm for a second. I’ll wrap it with gauze.”

Leonardo obediently raised his left arm. The dull ache was still there, but far better than before. He couldn’t quite tell whether it was Hugo’s careful treatment or the indulgent attention that had done more.

As he let himself be handled, no longer bothered by the touch brushing his shoulder, he glanced back at the presence behind him. Hugo, resting his chin on his hand, hesitated before speaking.

“Hey... you.”

Hugo’s focused gaze shifted to his profile, his hands still moving steadily.

“What.”

“Did you know... we’d end up like this?”

It was a question layered with meaning. On the surface, he was asking whether Hugo had expected things to turn out this way.

But to Hugo, it sounded broader.

“......”

As if he were subtly probing—where exactly this relationship stood in Hugo’s mind.

And Leonardo himself knew that it could be taken that way.

Their eyes no longer met through the mirror, but directly, between them.

When the silence stretched too long, Leonardo, suddenly embarrassed, changed the question.

“Why did you come all the way here? Just to say hello?”

Hugo continued wrapping the gauze with steady hands, offering no answer. Instead, he finished what he was doing first. Tying off the remaining gauze, he cleanly cut the excess with a sharp shard of ice.

Then he met Leonardo’s golden eyes directly. His hand moved unconsciously, gently lifting Leonardo’s chin.

“Because I was worried.”

At the unexpected answer, Leonardo’s lashes parted slightly. As he only blinked, trying to understand, Hugo stroked his cheek with his thumb and continued,

“When you’re not in front of me, I worry. And I keep thinking about you.”

It was a simple, unembellished truth. Delivered so calmly it almost sounded like a plain recitation. But because of that, the sincerity in his steady gaze remained completely unhidden.

To Leonardo, it sounded sweeter than any serenade.

Ah...

His golden eyes softened, unsure how to respond at first. The corners of his lips curled slightly despite himself.

Even if it wasn’t the answer he had wanted—

“Then kiss me.”

For now, that was enough.

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