* * *
Seeing him clamp his mouth shut now that the situation had turned against him was utterly repulsive.
Sia wiped the sneer off his face, his white complexion devoid of even the faintest trace of emotion.
“Disgusting.”
“…….”
“How could you? You called him your friend. Your only friend. Couldn’t you have just closed your eyes to what others were saying and believed in Vivi? If someone like you had truly believed in him, maybe things would’ve turned out differently.”
“At the time, everything—every single thing—was pointing at Vivi….”
“Of course it was! Because that bastard Letiyan orchestrated the whole damn thing to bring him down!”
Before Haen could even finish his half-hearted attempt at remorse, Sia strode forward and stopped right in front of him.
“…Don’t tell me you actually said that shit in front of Vivi too.”
At the somber question, Haen’s lips parted slightly.
Seeing that, Sia felt anger before he could even think to pity him.
Anger at himself—for being too young and powerless to help back then.
And fury at everyone who had driven Vivisian to such a fate.
“Fucking trash.”
The words were whispered in a tone so sweet it was hard to believe it was an insult.
Then Sia turned away.
If he stayed here any longer, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from beating Haen to a pulp.
Trash though he may be, Haen was still a noble from another country.
If he caused a scene, it would undoubtedly stir up trouble, and any trouble would inevitably drag Vivisian’s name into it.
That was the last thing Sia wanted. So he turned his back, exhaling slowly to rein in his temper.
“…Right. It’s not like yelling at you will change anything. I’m sure you don’t enjoy looking at me either. I’ll get straight to the point and leave, so don’t worry.”
“I thought you came just to curse me out. Guess not—how surprising.”
Sia ignored Haen’s self-deprecating remark and reached for the doorknob.
“You’re looking for Vivi, aren’t you? I came to tell you that it’s a waste of time.”
For a moment, Haen was caught off guard by the calm statement.
But he quickly realized Sia wasn’t just speaking for the sake of it. He shot to his feet.
Even with the sudden movement, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor carrying a slight threat, Sia didn’t so much as blink as he twisted the doorknob.
But before he could leave, Haen’s rough grip yanked him back.
Sia let out a sigh so transparent it almost sounded like contempt.
Stuck in this goddamn room, unable to leave, he felt nothing but irritation.
“What do you mean? Say it properly.”
“And what makes you think you can raise your voice? You think others don’t yell because they can’t? Lower it.”
“…Tell me what you know.”
“If I’m being honest, if my grandmother had allowed it, I would’ve marched in with an army and taken Vivi’s corpse myself. That’s the kind of person I am. And yet, you, the one who killed Vivi, expect me to tell you anything about him? Give me a reason.”
Sia smirked, as if he’d gladly share his knowledge—if only Haen could convince him.
But despite that smile, his eyes were cold with nothing but irritation.
It was clear he saw Haen as nothing more than an unreasonable madman.
But Haen wasn’t in a position to care about his pride. He humbled himself.
“Like you said, I killed him. That’s why, now more than ever, I need to do right by him. And he—Vivi—was my only friend. That’s reason enough for me to know about him.”
Sia listened with his eyes closed, as if feeling his way through the words.
Then, he nodded, as if he understood.
Haen’s expression brightened ever so slightly, thinking it was a sign of agreement—until Sia’s lips curled into a soft smile.
“What the fuck are you saying? I told you to convince me, not spout bullshit.”
Without hesitation, Sia turned and walked out of the room.
Caught off guard by the sheer coldness of it, Haen shouted after him.
“You may be the heir of the principality, but this is the Empire. You think you can keep acting like that?”
“You killed Vivi. There’s no way in hell you could act like a piece of shit toward me. Not if you have a conscience.”
His voice was calm, as if completely unafraid of any future consequences or retaliation.
He even tilted his head slightly, as if genuinely wondering—
Ah, does he not have a conscience?
It was such an obvious mockery that Haen clenched his teeth.
Even without looking back, Sia could easily imagine his reaction.
He let out a chuckle and waved his hand lazily.
“I’m leaving now. And I’m not joking—stop looking for Vivi. Your territory isn’t doing too well these days, is it? I’m just giving you some advice not to waste your money.”
“…You’ll regret this.”
Sia had been walking away without a backward glance, but at those words, he finally stopped.
Slowly, he turned.
Standing in the middle of the sunlit corridor, Sia looked at Haen.
His youthful face, barely marking his entry into adulthood, carried an unpolished but undeniable violence.
His darkened gaze, thick with simmering hostility, locked onto Haen.
Even in this space, designed to make all visitors feel both awe and intimidation, Sia never shrank back.
He was the same boy who, with nothing but the love of those who cherished him, had stomped across expensive carpets with dirty boots, climbed sacred wooden pillars without hesitation, and stamped his handprint on important documents just to cause trouble.
And that boy smiled.
“Regret? You mean… what you’re doing right now?”
Sia muttered as if entertained, shaking his head in disbelief.
Then, his eyes were drawn to the white butterfly flitting outside the window.
He reached out carefully.
The delicate creature landed gently on his pale, slender fingers.
Even as he moved slightly, it didn’t fly away.
Fixating on the butterfly, Sia whispered,
“You already know, don’t you? That’s just not something I do. More precisely, I have no reason to. There’s no one in this world who can receive my regret. And unlike you, I’m not a fucking idiot.
They say it’s never too late to seek forgiveness, but from what I’ve seen, regret is always late. Mistakes? Sure, anyone can make them. But the answer is simple—just don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
‘That’s why I don’t regret.’
Haen had expected Sia to mock him.
And in a way, he did.
But his expression wasn’t particularly amused.
He didn’t even seem intent on humiliating Haen.
The fearless young man who had irritated him to no end was gone, replaced by someone who had seen and endured far too much.
That unexpected shift made Haen pause.
Meanwhile, Sia let the white butterfly slip through his fingers, watching as it fluttered out the window.
“Ah, I should really get going now. …Vivi isn’t someone time can erase. And the crime of driving a person to their death can never be diluted. If anything, as time passes, it’ll only become more unbearable.”
Sia spoke like someone who had already lived through that particular kind of hell.
He looked at Haen like a latecomer just stepping onto a path he had long since walked.
Then, with a final glance, he shut the window.
“That’s why, Haen, I hope you live a long, long life. Long enough to miss Vivi forever, long enough to suffer for it.
I won’t tell you to take care—I hate you too much to even say that as a courtesy. I’m sure you understand.”
Leaving behind those elegant parting words, Sia stepped out of the castle.
Of course, Haen couldn’t hold him back.
Even if he confessed that ever since Vivisian’s death, he hadn’t been able to sleep, spending each day in fear of when he might end up taking another life—Sia would only burst into laughter rather than feel any sympathy for him.
Staring at the retreating figure of someone who would genuinely revel in his misery, Haen closed his eyes.
Sia had told him not to look for him, but even as he said it, he probably never truly believed that Haen would stop.
Taking a deep breath, Haen resolved to release a few more people.
His lungs filled completely, yet it felt as if they were drowning in water.
As the illusion of inching closer to death grew stronger, he staggered down the corridor.
He stepped into the now-empty bedroom, abandoned by its master, and stood still by the doorway for a long time.
‘Haen.’
“I was wrong… So please, stop. Please, just stop…”
They say the opposite of love isn’t hatred but indifference.
When he realized that hatred was a misguided emotion—when he tried to forget that he had committed such a sin—regret and affection took the place of resentment.
But that, too, was merely self-pity.
As a child, he pitied himself for losing his mother; as an adult, he pitied himself for killing his friend.
And it was that very self-pity that dragged Haen toward ruin.
Because he and his mother had loved each other until the very end, she remained a beautiful memory.
But he could never do the same with Vivisian.
No matter how much he wanted to, it was impossible…
And yet, cutting him out entirely was just as impossible.
The further he delved into the past in an attempt to forget their shattered relationship, the more a vision of a kind, radiant boy surfaced in his mind.
‘My friend.’
“I… I…”
‘Do you miss me?’
The younger Vivisian smiled cruelly as he posed the question.
Just as an artist’s masterpiece, created at the cost of their own life force, naturally draws the eye, Haen couldn’t help but be drawn to the boy whom even the gods had declared to be beloved.
Vivisian no longer existed anywhere in this world.
Now, he was nothing more than a mere wraith, sustained by Haen’s longing.
And yet, Haen couldn’t bring himself to ignore him.
Instead, he traced over the boy’s silhouette in his mind, allowing him to take deeper root in his world as he slowly opened his eyes.
For a brief moment, he imagined seeing the grown-up Vivisian standing by the window, bathed in sunlight.
His long, jet-black hair, left to hang naturally as he turned away, swayed gently in the light.
Through the strands, a pale face seemed to be smiling.
Or was it?
He wasn’t sure.
But one thing was certain…
“…Yeah. I miss you.”
I miss you, Vivi.
* * *
