It was a mistake to come here. He should have never seen him again for the rest of his life.

Damn it. The emotions he had barely managed to submerge beneath layers of memory remained unscathed, not a single fragment chipped away. Like a spring that had been forcibly compressed, the feelings exploded to life, swelling within his chest with terrifying force. The fear that his heart might actually burst open was so vivid it felt almost tangible.

He wanted to touch that man. He wanted to pull him close. He wanted to wrap him so tightly he couldn’t move and swallow him whole, from head to toe, leaving nothing behind. He wanted to capture every glance, every breath, every gesture—to lock them away where they could never escape again.

His fingers twitched without realizing it, his hand clenched into a fist, all of because the overwhelming hunger, the grotesquely greedy desire that clawed at his throat, sent shivers coursing through him.

Richard laughed. He laughed bitterly at his own foolishness.

To think he could rid himself of that man.

To think he could magnanimously let him go, freeing him from those old memories.

‘——What a joke. A joke so cruel it could never be rivaled.’

When Richard laughed, Christoph frowned. Only then did it seem as though Christoph truly registered Richard’s presence.

Christoph glared at him, suspicion flickering in his eyes, and absentmindedly reached for his breast pocket. His fingers searched anxiously for something that should have been there, but they found only emptiness.

Christoph turned his head away. Rising abruptly, he left the terrace without a backward glance. A startled voice called after him, perhaps a guard returning with drinks, shouting: “Wait, where are you going……!!!”, but such sounds didn’t even register.

Richard’s frozen heart thudded painfully in his chest.

The sight of Christoph’s back disappearing from view brought an unbearable thirst crashing down upon him.

It was a thirst he had forcibly forgotten for a time——only to have it now return with an intensity that scorched him from the inside out.

Richard found himself taking a step forward without realizing it. He frantically pursued the glimpse of a figure seen fleetingly among the crowd. Such a desperate thirst for fulfillment—could it be more intense than all the desires he had experienced throughout his life? Every passing moment brought a fresh wave of agonizing yearning.

Even as he bitterly mocked himself, Richard couldn’t help but hasten his pace, afraid of losing sight of that figure. And in doing so, he admitted it to himself—there was no going back now. Not after seeing him again like this.

The tightly coiled spring that he had forced, barely, to stay compressed finally snapped loose with terrifying force. There was no way to fix it, no way to wind it back into place.

“―…….”

Before he realized it, the banquet hall had become a distant blur behind him. The sounds of people had faded, leaving the surroundings steeped in a quiet darkness. Only the soft crunching of sand underfoot a few paces ahead broke the silence.

It was a distance he could close in moments if he ran. Christoph was walking just ahead. Despite knowing full well that he was being followed, Christoph didn’t look back, and Richard didn’t attempt to catch up. He merely trailed behind, keeping the same distance between them.

Eventually, Christoph turned into an area lined with similarly nondescript annexes, entering one of the houses. Richard stopped before the door, which shut firmly a few steps ahead of him. But soon after, he heard a series of rough clattering noises from inside, prompting him to swing the door open without hesitation.

There was Christoph.

He was standing amidst the clutter, hastily rummaging through a drawer. Extracting a bottle of pills, he poured them haphazardly into his hand. Without even bothering to fetch water, he shoved the pills into his mouth. Even as the door creaked open behind him, he didn’t turn around, focused solely on swallowing the pills—as if they would somehow restore the ashen pallor of his face, starkly visible even in the dim light.

“Still haven’t kicked that habit, have you?”

Would his voice tremble? Would he stutter pathetically? Despite such uncharacteristic worries, his voice came out as it always did—cold and low. At least, he thought it did. Yet, as he clenched his trembling hand to conceal it, Richard couldn’t help but bitterly mock himself, wondering if only he heard it that way.

Christoph slowly turned around. His expression was just as Richard remembered it—cold eyes tinged with indifference, a bored air etched on his pale face. Nothing about him had changed, save for his complexion.

“Or maybe seeing me gave you a headache?”

Unable to bear the rising tension any longer. Richard broke the silence by speaking again. Anything. He just needed Christoph to say something. Yet, at the same time, he dreaded what might come out of that mouth.

Christoph stared at Richard in silence. That stillness broke the moment Richard took an unthinking step forward into the room.

“Don’t step any closer.”

“――……”

Richard’s expression hardened. A faint blue light flickered in his eyes. Then, without hesitation, he stepped forward again.

In an instant, Christoph grabbed a porcelain clock from the dresser and hurled it at him. The clock shattered against the doorframe, just inches from Richard’s head. The sharp fragments left a small cut on his cheek.

Standing his ground without flinching, Richard reached up and touched his cheek, rubbing the faint trace of blood with his thumb. A cold smile spread across his lips.

“That temper of yours hasn’t changed, I see.”

“Why are you here?”

Christoph stared directly at Richard, faint wrinkles forming between his brows, laden with an unmistakable irritation. Noticing this, Richard’s own gaze turned icy.

“Why? Didn’t you tell me to come?”

Richard replied coolly, throwing back the words Christoph had said to him the last time they met. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he pressed his lips together bitterly. He shouldn’t have said anything at all.

But why?

What reason could he give for being here?

He thought he might know. It was likely the same reason for this unrelenting thirst clawing at him. Yet, the reason lingering at the hazy border of his consciousness refused to take form, evading his tongue and leaving him unable to speak it aloud.

All he could grasp was the undeniable truth of the moment:

He had always been parched for this man, so much so that it burned him to his very fingertips.

Yes. Even now, all these hollow words meant nothing. What he truly wanted was to devour Christoph. To consume him entirely, to quench this thirst in one definitive act. To hold him so tightly in his arms that he could never escape. To swallow him whole and never let go.

Richard’s gaze fell almost involuntarily to Christoph’s lips. He knew how sweet they were, how cool and refreshing they felt. His mouth went dry.

“And you, I see, haven’t cooled that reckless head of yours.” 

However, the moment those words left Christoph’s lips, as he stared at Richard with an expression of exasperation, Richard momentarily forgot his thirst.

Reckless.

That’s what Christoph called it. The reason Richard had come all the way here. The series of events that led him to this very room. The madness in Germany. All dismissed in one word: Reckless.

“Cooled?——What?”

Richard’s voice when the response came short was just sharp like ice. Christoph’s expression wavered, his brows furrowing slightly. He popped a pill into his mouth and chewed it like candy.

If it had cooled……

‘—Then I’ll ignite it again. Until it burns black, reduced to ash, and ensuring it never cools again.’

The desperate thirst within Richard cried out in protest, yearning for relief.

Just as Richard, unable to bear the longing any longer, was about to take another step forward. Christoph, who had been staring silently into the vague emptiness, suddenly spoke.

“A fool who comes within a month or two might as well wear his head as a decoration.”

Richard froze mid-step.

“A dimwit who shows up within four or five months is just falling for provocation.”

“――.”

“If you’d come after seven or eight months, though…… then I might have had to think about it. Because then, you wouldn’t be the person I used to know.”

Christoph’s fingers fidgeted anxiously with the empty pill bottle. His previously smooth brow was now furrowed.

Yes, Christoph had told Richard to come. But it wasn’t supposed to be so soon. At the very least, not before Christoph had dealt with Tarten and the pressing matters in front of him. However, Christoph wondered: even if enough time had passed for those issues to be resolved, would Richard still feel the same way as he had when he first heard Christoph’s words?

That was what mattered to Christoph.

And now, that ‘time’ had passed.

“――So, now?” – Richard asked softly.

Now, after he had crossed the threshold of time Christoph had hoped for, struggling all the while to erase him from his mind.

Christoph’s face went blank again at Richard’s question.

“You’re still the man I used to know. Exactly the same. I thought you’d ignore me and pretend not to care even if we met again. To be honest, I’m a little surprised you even made it here at all. Ah, but you didn’t come here for me, did you? ――Why did you follow me here, Richard? It should’ve been over by now.”

The implication in Christoph’s words was clear, and Richard remained silent, the meaning sinking in. For a long while, he stood there quietly, and then……, a faint hollow laugh escaped him.

Right. Christoph had always been frighteningly sharp. He was remarkably clever and possessed an uncanny ability to read people. He already knew what Richard had been thinking all this time. He even knew what cold and rational conclusion Richard would eventually come to.

And now, Christoph was delivering his verdict: “It’s too late.” A conclusion reached after days, or perhaps months, of relentless consideration in that brilliant mind of his.

‘But did you know this, Christoph? Do you know what I’m thinking right now? Even I didn’t know it until now. No, you couldn’t possibly know. If you did, you wouldn’t be standing in front of me with that expression.’

“Nothing’s over, Christoph. The man you think you know? He doesn’t exist anymore.”

Richard smiled. At least, he thought he smiled—though perhaps he hadn’t. The faint hardening of Christoph’s expression suggested otherwise.

Step by step, Richard advanced toward Christoph.

“Don’t come any closer.”

The warning came sharply as Christoph’s face twisted, but Richard had no intention of listening. No, perhaps it wasn’t even about intention—he simply couldn’t process the words.

His heart was pounding uncontrollably, as if caught in a raging storm of anxiety, anger, desperation, and despair.

Christoph’s words rang in his ears: “It’s over. The man standing here is the Richard I knew—the one I despised.”

“……——”

His vision darkened. Everything around him faded, leaving only a deep consuming fear. 

Driven by pure instinct, Richard moved toward the man before him, as if holding him would make everything disappear. The unbearable reality that didn’t feel real. He reached out. He didn’t even notice how much paler Christoph had become.

The moment his fingertips brushed against Christoph’s arm, the dam broke. His mind went blank. By the time he came to his senses, Richard was already pulling Christoph into his arms, holding him tightly. Even that brief clarity dissolved when their lips met—soft and intoxicatingly sweet.

“……——”

‘How could I have forgotten this? How did I ever think I could live without it?’

The sensation of his lips against Christoph’s—soft yet firm. Forcing open clenched teeth and slipping inside to find a timid retreating tongue. That texture and that taste.

Nothing else mattered. His mind was drowning in honeyed intoxication. As Christoph struggled against him, Richard held him tighter, consumed by a single thought: To devour those lips completely.

But in the very next moment, the metallic taste of blood spread across Richard’s lips. Christoph had bitten down, breaking the skin, and as the blood welled, Richard hesitated for a fleeting instant. It was all Christoph needed to push him away with surprising strength.

Before pain or anger could register, Richard’s first instinct was desperation—a panicked realization that Christoph was slipping from his arms. He reached out again, managing to grab hold of him, but it was futile. Christoph violently shook off Richard’s grip and, almost simultaneously, began to retch.

With his face turning deathly pale, Christoph stumbled back a few steps. He didn’t even make it to the bathroom, instead doubling over where he stood, heaving uncontrollably.

“Chris……”

As Richard took a hesitant step forward, Christoph flinched visibly, his shoulders trembling as if wracked by an unbearable torment. And in that moment, Richard understood.

Until now, Christoph had been holding himself together with every ounce of his will. In truth, he couldn’t even bear Richard’s presence. At the core of it was fear—or an anxiety, almost instinctual born from self-preservation. Richard had given him nothing but painful memories.

It felt like being struck with a heavy blow to the head. Paralyzed by the weight of realization, Richard could do nothing but stand a few steps away. All frozen.

‘That’s really strange. Why does it matter if he recoils?’ – He thought. Yet, his feet refused to move.

He could have comforted him. He could have simply reached out, patted Christoph’s back, and offered him water. But even that seemed impossible. He stood there like a statue. As if any attempt to move closer would send a skittish animal fleeing into the dark.

“……It’s not over.” 

Richard muttered, his voice barely audible as he watched Christoph; while Christoph was still trembling and retching as though his body was rejecting more than just the contents of his stomach.

“It was never over.” – Richard insisted, though the words came out weak and hollow, like a child clinging stubbornly to a truth he no longer believed. Even the stubbornly added words at the end trailed off.

Finally, Christoph’s heaving subsided. He raised his head slowly, his blue eyes meeting Richard’s.

And they just stared at each other.

For how long, neither of them could say.

After that, Christoph remained silent for a long time before finally speaking, his words emerging slowly and deliberately.

“……Whether I wanted you to come, or didn’t. What I was thinking, or why. This was the first time I’d seriously tried to think something through for so long, but no matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t decide. I couldn’t figure it out.” 

Christoph said. His voice was slow and deliberate, as though weighing every word. Richard listened while staring at him with a strange feeling. It was almost as if they were having a real conversation. The thought felt unfamiliar. When had they ever truly ‘talked’ like this?

Christoph continued, gesturing first to his head, then to his chest.

“I’m missing something. Here. Or maybe here. Or maybe both. And whatever’s missing, I have no way of knowing what was supposed to be there in the first place. So, if people call me inhuman or swing a blade at me out of hatred, I wouldn’t blame them. I understand that much. That’s why, when I think back on the things you forced on me in Dresden, or the lies you told me, none of it feels incomprehensible. And sure, including the incident where you forcibly insulted me in Frankfurt…… Maybe I really am the kind of person who deserves that.”

When Christoph spoke, his pale eyebrows drew together in a faint frown, as if even he wasn’t fully aware of his own reaction. His piercing blue eyes flickered, betraying discomfort.

The expression on Richard’s face went blank as if wiped clean. But his mind wasn’t empty. He knew exactly what Christoph was recalling.

That night.

It was a miserable and horrific night. A night different from the days when this man forcibly spread his legs, a night when he had a man solely by his own will. It was the night Christoph was forcibly violated.

*Thump.*

*……Thump.*

The strength in Richard’s hands went limp. His fingers wouldn’t move. He couldn’t even lift a hand.

“——someone deserving of it.”

Deserving of humiliation. Deserving of lies. Deserving of having his heart ripped apart.

‘——Don’t joke with me.’

What overtook Richard’s thirst and choked his breath was anger—a rage so consuming it flooded his mind entirely. And soon, he realized where that aimless anger was directed. It was at himself.

All frozen and unable to even breathe. He stood there as Christoph spoke, his lips drawn into a frown.

“But after thinking about it, there’s one thing I’m sure of: I don’t want to go through that again. I never want to relive that day. It made me feel like a pathetic wretched person. That’s probably what you wanted, wasn’t it? But I refuse. My mind is still consumed by madness, unable to settle down or make sense of anything, but at least I know this much for sure…… And you…… you’re still the same Richard Tarten I’ve always known.”

The deep prolonged anguish Christoph had likely endured didn’t resolve completely, but the conversation seemed to mark a pause. A tentative endpoint. Christoph raised his gaze again, which had momentarily dropped downward. Beneath his perpetually furrowed brow, his piercing blue eyes looked directly at Richard without hesitation. And there, in front of him, Richard experienced a sensation unlike anything he’d felt before.

For this entirely new sensation that he never met in his life, he couldn’t find a name. It wasn’t quite like any emotion he’d ever known, though it most closely resembled fear.

Fear.

Richard had never felt such an emotion toward anyone or anything before. At first, he didn’t recognize what it was. Like a single drop of ice-cold water dripping into the center of his heart and spreading outward, freezing him completely, it was unmistakably fear. It was the kind of fear that comes when something profoundly important teeters on the edge, and no solution, no action, comes to mind.

Regret and self-loathing surged within him. Anger boiled so intense that he could have strangled himself with it.

Yet even through that overwhelming turmoil, he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the man before him. He couldn’t recklessly drag Christoph toward him like before, but neither could he withdraw his hand entirely.

‘What do I do? What can I do?’

Richard thought. If Christoph’s heart was no longer here, if he had shut himself off completely and sealed his emotions – whatever they might be – and resolved never to even glance at Richard again……

That unfathomable fear.

“……”

From across the heavy silence, Richard thought he heard a faint bitter click of Christoph’s tongue. That was a soft weary exhale tinged with pain.

“Why did you come, Richard? If you hadn’t, the connection between you and me would’ve been over. Completely.”

The moment heard Christoph’s voice, laced with unhealed emotions and trailing off bitterly, made Richard’s fingertips tremble. Yet, faint hope sparked within him, fragile and yearning for solace.

“It’s not over.”

Those were the only words Richard could repeat, like a machine stuck on a loop. Fixing his gaze on Christoph, who furrowed his brows slightly and refused to respond further, Richard’s mind clung desperately to the words.

It’s not over. Christoph’s words implied as much.

It’s not over. It’s not over. Even if the connection is as fragile as a spider’s thread, it’s not over……. 

‘Please, I’m begging you.’

Christoph frowned in frustration. But there was something else, that was a hint of unease. After a long and heavy silence, he finally spoke.

“Leave……I need to rest for now.”

But, the cold voice that accompanied Christoph’s sharp gesture toward the door was laced with a sigh. It was that faint sigh that kept Richard from collapsing on the spot. It allowed him to stand his ground. Clinging by a single fragile thread like a spider’s web.

/End flashback/