C | Chapter 5.2 | Lies | Crack in the Truth

The dream was warm.

Ian lay with his eyes closed, feeling a profound sense of drowsiness. His head rested on a soft feather pillow, like drifting on a cloud. Someone’s warm hand gently touched his forehead repeatedly. Ian smiled faintly, rubbing his cheek against the warm palm.

It seemed that he was on the phone.

“…It’s not like that.”

Ian liked the low whisper of his voice. When he slightly lowered his head to look into Ian’s eyes, speaking so closely that Ian could feel his breath, it made him happy.

“For now, it’s not possible. I told you already. Don’t whine, Prince. It doesn’t suit you.”

Ian’s face tensed a little. It bothered him that this man was talking with someone else, someone he didn’t know. Because…

“Ian is sick. He’s worse than expected. I can’t just leave him alone… Damn it. I told you, it’s not like that.”

Because…

“Yeah, I’m that kind of guy, but Ian isn’t. I might be a beast in front of you, but I can’t be like that with Ian.”

Because…

“Shut up, Prince. Stop barking. I’ll come back when Ian is better. If you’re just whining because you miss me, then come here yourself. I’m hanging up.”

Because it felt like he’d go somewhere Ian didn’t know, to someone Ian didn’t know.

Ian opened his eyes—before he could disappear.

“Who was that?”

Ian’s sudden question startled Revenant, who had been touching his forehead, and he stiffened briefly.

“…How long have you been awake?”
“Just now. Who were you talking to?”
“My superior. How’s your head? Is the headache gone now?”
“Was it Archduke Eduard?”

For a moment, Revenant pressed his lips together, but then he let out a small laugh. He didn’t seem surprised that Ian had found out about Eduard and Hebaoulis. He might have expected as much.

“Yeah, you figured it out.”
“I’m not finished yet.”

Revenant withdrew his hand from Ian’s forehead, a faint smile lingering.

“I brought some painkillers. Let me know if you need them.”

His fingers brushed over the cut on Ian’s forehead, briefly touching it before pulling away. As he started to stand up, Ian quickly grabbed onto him. The hand that had been pulling away pressed against his forehead again. Ian felt both the ache of the wound and the comforting warmth of Revenant’s touch.

“Could you… stay a bit longer?”

Ian’s sigh brushed against Revenant’s wrist. Revenant, hand still held, sat back down by the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight.

“Is the headache always like this?”

Ian gazed into his blue eyes and shook his head.

“No… Actually, I’m not sure. As far as I know, I’ve never had headaches like this, but Leo says I was practically addicted to painkillers because of them. It feels strange, though. School was only about six months to a year ago, but it feels like I’m talking about a completely different person. Isn’t that weird?”

Today, Revenant’s face seemed more like a sculpture than ever. He’d always thought he was handsome, but now it was striking. If he touched it, it might feel as cold and hard as David’s bronze statue. Ian realized why a moment later—it was because Revenant’s expression was so unyielding.

“So you haven’t had headaches in a while?”
“Not as intense as today. Ah, could it be something related to my brain? Should I go to the hospital?”

Revenant brushed Ian’s damp hair back as Ian spoke with casual detachment. Today, Revenant was unusually gentle, and though the touch was pleasant, it also made Ian feel irritable. After all, people can’t bring themselves to be harsh to someone who’s sick. It felt like he was treating him like a child.

Annoying.

“If there were something to worry about, I’d tell you first. Don’t worry about it.”
“Ah, yes. Of course. You’re such a passionate philanthropist, tracking me down no matter where I go.”

No matter what Ian said, Revenant didn’t react.

“If the headache came back suddenly, you should see a doctor.”

Ian looked at him for a moment, then turned away. The faint memory of the phone conversation lingered in his mind.

“When Ian is better, I’ll return.”

He had said he’d go back. Considering his line of work, it was obvious he wouldn’t stay in the U.S. indefinitely. But somehow, that idea bothered Ian now.

“It’s fine. I think I know why my head hurts.”

You’re going to leave me with a doctor and then leave, aren’t you? That’s also annoying.

“What’s your theory?”
“Because I’m thinking too much.”

Ian realized that memories of his past were coming back just before the headache started. As he drifted off to sleep, fragments of memories he’d forgotten began to resurface. Pushing Revenant’s hand away from his forehead, Ian sat up suddenly.

“Why?”

Revenant frowned and asked in a low voice. Ian was desperately sifting through his mind, trying to recall the tall man with black hair and blue eyes, trying to determine if he was the same man who now sat by his side, pretending to be kind.

“I…”
“You?”

Could they be the same person? Was Revenant that man, and was that man named Leo?

“I think… I was in love with someone.”
“Oh?”
“His name was Leo.”
“I see.”

Ian scrutinized Revenant’s expression as if he could count every tiny hair on his face, but he looked as composed as ever. He showed no reaction to the name Leo.

“It wasn’t the Leo from two nights ago, who bought me dinner.”
“I understand.”
“I think… I must’ve liked him a lot. So much that I even dated another guy just because he had the same name.”

Revenant’s response was the same as before—a calm, expected “I see,” like he’d already known.

“He made pancakes for me. I think I didn’t even want them at the time… but somehow, I ended up eating it all. Forced it down, chewed through it all… but after I finished, I felt like I was going to throw up… I held my mouth shut. That’s what I remember. It was so stupid, but I guess I really, really liked him.”

“…I see.”

The indifferent response, like the flow of a river, devoid of any feeling or change, made tears spring up in Ian’s eyes.

So he’s not that “Leo.”

Or, is he that “Leo”? Maybe he’s just pretending not to know, hiding the truth to leave me again.

A tear slipped down Ian’s cheek. He clenched Revenant’s hand with his tear-stained, blurry face.

“But… even though I liked him so much… he abandoned me.”

The tears filled his twisted expression, and Ian closed his eyes, sobbing softly.

“I… I think… there’s something really wrong with me. Even though I feel these emotions, so intense they’re almost bursting out… so vivid… I can’t remember who he was. I feel like I’m going crazy. Why… why did he leave me? I can’t remember. I don’t know. But still…”

Revenant wouldn’t understand what he was saying. Ian himself couldn’t clearly grasp the meaning of his own words. It was just so painfully sad to think that Revenant wasn’t that “Leo.” And the idea that he might be that “Leo” was making him crumble.

I love you, Leo. Please come back. Take me with you.

Leo hadn’t come back. Instead, it was Revenant. Revenant, who had never once revealed who he was. He had no intention of becoming Leo again. Through his anonymous charity, he might give him money, a house, and comfort, but he wouldn’t bring back Leo.

Leo hadn’t returned. Leo had abandoned him.

In place of his shattered memory, his emotions swelled. Over time, the feeling of having loved someone had grown to an uncontrollable size, consuming him entirely. The more his memory faded, the clearer the emotion became.

Ian cried under the weight of that feeling, terrified of the emptiness that would come after it finally disappeared.

This intense headache had a reason. It was his body’s response to the imbalance between emotion and memory.

“…ugh…”

Revenant gently pushed Ian down. When Ian moved in response to the pressure of his hands, his back met the soft mattress again. Leaning over him, Revenant spoke in a low voice.

“Everyone has a reason for their actions. That person probably had one too. Don’t torment yourself over the past. It’s not worth the pain you’re feeling now.”

Revenant’s long fingers brushed the tears from Ian’s damp lashes. After a brief hesitation, he lowered his head, pressing his lips to the corner of Ian’s eye.

“Don’t hurt, little one.”

He treated Ian as if he were a child. The kiss on his tear-stained face was soft and gentle.

Click.

Revenant left the room quietly, and Ian was alone. His mind, shredded by the headache, felt foggy, like a dense mist. Perhaps sadness took a similar shape to mist.

When he closed his eyes, the mist closed in on him. Ian muttered faintly to himself.

I loved Leo. But did Leo love me?

His heart throbbed, a sudden pang of fear weighing it down.

Did Leo, like Revenant, only see me as a child? Was my love something that was always going to be abandoned?

“Would you… sleep with me?”

Leo’s response to that question suddenly came back to him.

“No.”

When Ian had looked hurt, unable to accept the rejection, Leo had touched his face and added:

“If you still feel the same after you turn eighteen, then maybe.”

Hearing that had made his heart thud with happiness, just as it was now as the memory came back. His heart pounded.

Ian was nineteen now.