Plin Ch 4.13

The bodyguards followed Hugo from a distance, concealing themselves. He had said he wanted to take a short walk, but it had already been an hour. Heavily intoxicated, the sky and road seemed to lose their usual angles and sway around him. He had a naturally strong constitution, so it was the first time he’d been this drunk. Hugo chuckled, amused by the distorted space.

In the early morning, as the melted snow from the day began to freeze again, the crunching of ice under his shoes echoed.

His body swayed, but his mind was clear.

He missed Plin.

After all this time, he expected Plin to at least show his face… To barge in and make a scene. Then maybe seeing his face would have lifted his spirits.

Hugo pictured Plin’s appearance in his mind. His gentle yet sly eyes, his small nose, his mouth that revealed his canines when he smiled. And those large ears that twitched at every word Hugo spoke.

Was Plin giving him time to collect himself? Ignoring him? Or had he given up on their relationship…? Hugo bit his lip at the sudden surge of anxiety.

He knew it was a petty thought, but he wished Plin felt as anxious as he did. But if that were the case, Plin wouldn’t be so unresponsive.

“You’re confident, aren’t you…”

They say the one who loves more loses, and he’d made his feelings so obvious, so Plin must know he held the upper hand in their relationship.

‘You say that Mr. Plin wasn’t honest, but if he had honestly asked you to help him with Andrea, would you have been okay with it? Probably not.’

That damn Thibeau had said that.

Hugo’s inherently petty heart would have ached just as much whether Plin had been honest or not.

Of course, blatant honesty was better than deception. Anger was different from the hollowness in his heart. But what made Thibeau’s insight so annoying and painful was that it was true. Whether it was honesty or deception wasn’t the real issue.

Thibeau had initially taken away his glass of wine and then, seeing his state, had spitefully told him to just drink the 60-proof stuff and get properly drunk. He had also asked:

‘So, let’s say he confessed his past as a spy because he wanted you to save Andrea. What’s the problem? Did you find it so repulsive that he reached out to you when his loved one was in danger?’

It wasn’t so much repulsive as… surprising. If he were Plin, he wouldn’t have been able to confess such a huge secret so casually.

He might have hidden it for the rest of his life, fearing disappointment and the cooling of their newfound passion.

The ease of his confession meant his feelings for Hugo were just as light. Even if he ended up being hated, it wouldn’t matter much.

So, the real problem was…

The realization that Plin didn’t like him that much. That his feelings weren’t as deep as Hugo’s…

It was so unfair to realize that the depth of their feelings was so different, especially at that happy moment, that his pitiful heart, wounded and self-deprecating, had lashed out in anger.

‘Anyway. Don’t be too tormented. You’ll be struck by karma if you hold onto negative feelings.’

That saintly bastard had sneered. He should have been born a dragon, not Hugo.

He felt pathetic, unable to even hate someone properly.

“Yes, Buddha… Who would I hate?”

Hugo muttered to himself and squatted down. His suit wrinkled, and the hem of his long coat dragged on the ground.

The night was covered in white snow. He felt a sense of déjà vu. He’d felt like this on a day like this before.

He picked up a twig and scratched on the ground. He wrote the name of his beloved, and then erased it with the twig, covering it with snow. He tossed the twig aside and scooped up a handful of snow, throwing it onto the ground for no reason.

After venting his frustration like a child playing with snow, Hugo sighed deeply and wiped the moisture from his eyes.

***

By the time he arrived at the mansion, it had been more than two hours since he’d left the car for his walk. Hugo was about to enter his room on the second floor, but he suddenly headed to the third floor where Plin was staying.

He assumed Plin would be asleep. He just wanted to check on him, to see if he was alright, if he was sleeping peacefully.

Emboldened by the alcohol, he opened the guest room door. It was ridiculous that he’d agonized over something so simple for so long. Hugo took slow steps toward the bed, careful not to wake the fox.

The blanket in the middle of the bed was mounded high like a mountain. Plin was completely hidden beneath it, not even his head showing. Hugo carefully pulled down the blanket, feeling a twinge of anxiety that Plin might not be there.

When silver hair shimmered in the moonlight, his tension eased, and he let out a held breath.

Plin was curled up in a ball within the suffocating cocoon of blankets. He looked tiny, huddled on the king-sized bed. His tail was also curled up around him like a ball, and for a moment, Hugo almost laughed.

But then he noticed something was amiss. Plin’s hands were balled into fists, pressed against his eyes. It was an unnatural posture, obscuring his face.

The skin around his eyes was wet with tears. His back, the outline of his shoulder blades visible, rose and fell slightly.

Plin was crying.

Seeing him cry silently, a dull ache blossomed in Hugo’s chest. It was the middle of the night, why wasn’t he sleeping…?

“Plin…”

The moment he called out, the slight movements of Plin’s back stopped.

“…..”

“I just wanted to see your sleeping face…”

Plin remained motionless for a moment and then rustled, sitting up.

“Hello…”

His voice was hoarse, as if he’d just swallowed his sobs, barely managing to catch his breath.

“Hi.”

Hugo’s reply was equally strained. In the bluish pre-dawn light, the two inexperienced men remained silent for a moment.

Plin’s tears continued to flow. He silently wiped away the emotions that welled up inside him. Hugo sat down beside him and, without realizing it, stroked Plin’s wet eyes.

“I didn’t know… you were crying…”

“…..”

Hugo tried to meet Plin’s gaze, but Plin stubbornly looked down. Tears dripped onto the back of his hands.

“I thought you were okay.”

“…How could I be okay?”

Right, he shouldn’t have said that, seeing Plin’s puffy eyes. Hugo closed his mouth.

“…I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Sniffle, hic…”

Plin screwed up his face, trying to hold back his tears like a child. Hugo’s hand, unsure where to go, landed on Plin’s shoulder. Even though he’d been bundled in a blanket cocoon, his shoulder was cold.

“With each passing day… I thought… sob… that you wouldn’t see me again, Executive Director.”

Plin spoke haltingly, his words choked with sobs.

“Tomorrow, or rather, when it’s light out today, I was going to say goodbye to you, Executive Director.”

“What goodbye?”

“I was going to Romun… I wanted to say goodbye before I left…”

Romun, out of the blue? There was only one reason for Plin to go to Romun, another continent. Andrea was working in Romun, so Plin was going to see him. Panic welled up in Hugo.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I’ve been a coward…”

“You said you weren’t going to think about Andrea so much anymore.”

He had said that. He’d abruptly confessed about his deal with Ethan, saying he wouldn’t dwell on Andrea anymore.

“I thought that if I refused Ethan, Andrea might be in danger… But, that’s not what I was thinking that day. I thought that before. Foolishly, I didn’t think Andrea was in danger anymore, sob. I didn’t think I’d lost… Anyway, I know now, so whether it works or not, I was going to go to Romun myself and…”

“I feel like I’m missing something.”

Frustrated, Hugo roughly loosened his tie. Plin looked up at him.

“Are you saying what I said that day was a misunderstanding?”

There’s a reason for everything. Especially for actions that deviate from the norm.

If he’d misjudged the situation, he still couldn’t understand why Plin had chosen that specific, contented afternoon to make such an uncomfortable confession. The conversation was back to square one. He’d already asked enough questions, and he was tired of repeating them.

“…..”

“Was there something you didn’t tell me?”

Finally, Hugo explored another possibility.

“You’re such a stupid idiot…”

“What?”

“Because I like you. Sob, a lot, hic s-so much…”

Plin blurted out his true feelings. His tail thumped against the bed. At the same time, the fur on his ears, head, and tail stood on end. He seemed deeply upset.

“Oh, uh… huh?”

Hugo, who had been suspecting something completely different, stammered, dumbfounded. The scattered thoughts in his mind swirled and blurred his vision.

Like him…? He’d thought Plin lacked deep feelings, that he’d casually dropped the confession without fearing the consequences, because it didn’t matter to him.

“I think I really… like you, Executive Director… so I was wondering if…”

Plin hesitated and then closed his eyes as if giving up, not wanting to see Hugo’s reaction. The tears welled up and spilled over.

“If you liked me too, Executive Director, I wanted to ask… sob… if you’d consider a real relationship, instead of a contractual one… hic…”

“…Oh.”

It was a response somewhere between agreement and a moan. Plin sobbed at the lukewarm reaction, his mouth opening to reveal two sharp canines.

Holding back his hurt feelings, Plin continued.

“So I had to, hic, be honest first…”

Hugo nodded slowly in response.

“Of course, I expected you to be angry, to be disappointed in me, to yell at me… sob… and I was prepared to apologize, but… what you said was so different from what I expected… It felt unfair, but I also thought you might see it that way.”

Plin rapidly poured out the words he’d kept bottled up.

Ah… He wanted a real relationship, and for that, there couldn’t be any lies, so without thinking, he rushed to confess his wrongdoing…

The paper of his common sense was torn to shreds and scattered in the air.

It was shocking. To think that someone could think like this. The fox’s words, so contrary to his own thoughts, filled his hardened heart with an unexpected joy.

This courageous fox, like a child unaware of deceitful strategies, like a fearless general on the battlefield, like a blind fool who didn’t know how to bide his time.

“…Because you… like me.”

Hugo repeated Plin’s words. The more he understood their meaning, the more a warm feeling welled up inside him.

“I-I wanted to ask you out…”

Hugo stammered, still stunned, his eyes blinking slowly as he clenched and unclenched his fists. He felt like his heart would leap out of his chest if he didn’t do something.

Plin, misinterpreting Hugo’s shock, hurriedly tried to backtrack.

“You can refuse if you want. I’m going to Romun now…”

Hugo, who had been staring blankly into space, looked directly at Plin.

“Stop running away after captivating me.”

“I’ve already bought the tickets. I’m leaving tomorrow…”

“I’ll find Andrea and bring him to you. The tickets? I’ll pay you back. Don’t talk about leaving. Stay with me.”

Hugo spoke haltingly, offering his handkerchief to Plin, who was sniffing.

“Blow your nose, darling.”

Plin dabbed at his nose instead of blowing it. Hugo rubbed the corners of Plin’s eyes with his thumb.

He felt an urge to hold onto something tightly. Otherwise, he felt like he would float away.

Hugo embraced the fox, holding him close. He knew Plin would feel the frantic beating of his heart against his chest, but he didn’t care.

“Nngh, that hurts a little…”

“I really like you. Truly.”

He confessed, his voice thick with emotion.

Liking someone felt like a game. There was no clear reason, no specific starting point. The feelings simply blossomed, rewarded only by the other person’s gaze. Hoping for that game to blossom in the other person as well felt as futile as pinpointing a single star in the Milky Way.

Once, not even realizing he was already in love with Plin, he’d vowed to make Plin fall for him. Now he knew it was just wishful thinking, a way to soothe the loneliness of his unrequited love. And now, he knew how purely Plin had tried to give himself to him.

Hugo trembled slightly. Even with his eyes closed, he felt like he was bathed in starlight.

***