* * *
To escape from a terrible reality, something new was necessary.
In that sense, the mysterious man who appeared at just the right moment seemed like an exception worth considering.
Taking a deep breath, Sia forcibly redirected his thoughts away from the despair threatening to consume him.
For example… wondering about the identity of the man who had called him “baby” in such a gentle voice.
Not even his parents had ever called him that.
His father treated him in a strangely formal manner, as if dealing with a superior, while his mother had no particular affection for him.
The only person she had ever loved was Sia’s father, and Sia had merely been an attachment that came along with that love.
“It’s strange, isn’t it? I gave birth to him, and yet he resembles his father so much.”
Recalling how she would murmur that as if it were some great mystery, Sia struggled to his feet.
“Time for bed.”
There would be plenty of tasks waiting for him when he woke up—chores to complete, and he had to meet that man again.
There was nothing different from usual, yet his heart pounded uncontrollably.
With a thud, he flopped onto the bed.
He should apply ointment to his legs, but even if they healed quickly, new wounds would only replace them.
So he didn’t particularly wish for them to heal fast.
“I don’t care if they leave scars. I’d rather they take a long, long time to heal.”
With that thought lingering in his mind, Sia let his flickering eyes close.
That night, he dreamed of a man whose face and identity remained unknown, calling out to him kindly.
When he woke up, he felt strangely good.
Apart from that, however, there was an unusual amount of work that day, pushing back his break time.
It wasn’t until much later than usual that he could finally head toward the prison.
He wasn’t sure what had happened, but the man didn’t seem to be in a condition for a long conversation.
The thought that he might have arrived too late—that the man could have disappeared or left—made Sia anxious as he hurried to the prison.
His stride was short to begin with, but his injured leg slowed him even more.
By the time he finally reached the place that had been his secret hideaway until now, he was frustrated.
“Ugh, this is so slow! What the hell!”
Just as Sia was venting all his irritation, glaring at his leg with sharp eyes, he heard that voice from yesterday.
“You’re always angry when I see you. Baby—no, wait. You told me not to call you that. Anyway, you sure are full of temper, huh?”
The voice, murmuring as if speaking to itself, was laced with laughter.
Ultimately, Sia had been abandoned—by his parents and the villagers who lived alongside them.
Because of that, he never expected the man to have any reason to wait for him.
So when an answer came back, he was momentarily flustered.
His large eyes rolled in surprise before he, shockingly, asked in a mild tone,
“You always sneak up on people like this, don’t you? …By the way, can’t you tell me who you are? Who are you? Why are you here? Where are you?”
He barely swallowed back the question, ‘Are you also an outcast like me?’
Even a child knew better than to ask something like that to someone he had just met.
If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t have cared and would’ve blurted it out.
But he didn’t want to be rude to the only person who had spoken to him kindly from the very beginning.
Unaware that the boy reserved his gentleness solely for him, the man let out a meaningful chuckle before asking in a soft voice,
“Are you curious about me?”
“If I’m being honest… yeah. You probably already know this, but I’m a slave. No one in this castle is kind to me. You’re the first person who’s ever spoken to me gently.”
Sia spoke truthfully, knowing that to receive an answer, he had to give something in return.
At his words, the man didn’t respond immediately.
Sia clenched and unclenched his fists, glaring at the ground for no reason.
‘Did the word “slave” disappoint him? Is he going to start treating me like everyone else now?’
His thoughts twisted between nervous anticipation and defensive disappointment, and he swallowed dryly.
But after a brief silence, the man’s response was unexpected.
“There aren’t supposed to be any slaves in the duchy.”
It was a purely logical statement.
He didn’t ask how Sia became a slave, nor did he imply that being a slave meant he could be treated poorly.
Faced with such an obvious remark, Sia was rendered speechless.
He had no idea how to respond.
The man didn’t press him for an answer either, allowing the silence to stretch between them.
Instinctively, Sia realized that the silence was the man’s way of being considerate.
Yet, without meaning to, he muttered as if making an excuse,
“It’s just… that’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone say that. So I was a little surprised. I mean, you’re right. There aren’t supposed to be any. But the Duke decided to keep me as a slave just because I don’t have parents.”
“Letiyan?”
The man murmured the current duke’s name as if speaking of someone he knew well.
After that, he fell into another long silence.
“…That guy hasn’t changed.”
Then, as if realizing something, he asked,
“Was there no one who tried to free you?”
“At first, there were. But now… everyone in this castle is so used to me being a slave that no one even brings it up anymore.”
Sia’s voice trembled slightly with suppressed resentment as he hesitantly let out his words.
At that, the man whispered, sounding faintly flustered.
“Oh no, baby. You’re not crying, are you?”
His tone suggested that he wasn’t quite sure what to do if Sia was indeed crying.
Sia hadn’t intended to burden or trouble him, and more than anything, he wasn’t the kind of kid who cried over something like this.
So he firmly denied it.
“I’m not crying! I don’t cry over things like this.”
“There’s no such thing as ‘things like this.’ If you want to cry, you cry. I wasn’t saying you shouldn’t. I just… I asked because I was worried since I can’t do anything for you even if you do.”
His voice was calm, but the words themselves were strangely sweet.
Rolling the kindness over his tongue, Sia mumbled in a subdued voice,
“Why are you so kind to me?”
“Because you’re a baby.”
The immediate response left Sia feeling as if all the tension in his body had drained away.
He had no idea what kind of answer to expect, but this… he hadn’t needed to be so nervous.
Though the man spoke in the refined manner often associated with nobility, there was an unexpected simplicity in the way he delivered his words.
With just a single phrase, he had completely disarmed Sia.
Letting out a small sigh, Sia suddenly remembered something.
“Wait—you called me ‘baby’ again.”
“Right. Then let’s change it to ‘because you’re still young.'”
The man easily adjusted his words to accommodate Sia’s protest.
“You’re really strange.”
Muttering inwardly, Sia quietly sat down and glanced around.
“How do you even know I’m young? Can you see me? It’s not fair if you can see me but I can’t see you.”
“Calm down. I can’t see you either. I just know. Your voice alone makes it obvious that you’re young.”
The man chuckled as he soothed the boy.
Feeling a little flustered, Sia used the back of his hand to cool his slightly warmed cheeks.
“…Hmph. Well then, if you won’t tell me who you are, at least give me a name. I can’t keep calling you ‘you’ forever.”
“Vivi. Call me Vivi.”
It was a sweet name, more suited for a child than a grown man.
It was probably a nickname rather than his real name, but Sia didn’t press the matter.
Instead, he simply repeated it, testing the name on his tongue.
“Vivi… Vivi. Vivi, how old are you?”
“I think I’m… 23, probably.”
There was an odd uncertainty in his tone.
Tilting his head in confusion, Sia did a quick calculation and was slightly surprised.
“You’re an adult, huh.”
“…Is it really okay if I keep speaking informally?”
Sia hesitated before asking cautiously, and a quiet chuckle came in response.
“Does that bother you? I don’t mind. Just do whatever feels comfortable for you.”
“Really? Then I’ll just speak comfortably. And also, don’t call me ‘you.’ I’m Sia. Call me ‘Sia.’”
‘I don’t like being called ‘you.’
Sia added the words like a small complaint, and the man—Vivi—easily agreed.
The two continued talking after that.
It was mostly Sia who spoke, with Vivi responding in turn.
Time passed, and eventually, Vivi muttered that his throat hurt, bringing their conversation to an end.
It was similar to yesterday, and Sia stepped back without protest.
The only difference was that this time, when Sia said goodbye, Vivi actually responded.
“Alright, I’m heading out.”
“Yeah, take care.”
The man’s voice was gentle, but just as Sia took a few steps away, Vivi suddenly spoke again in a weary tone.
“Hey, Sia… did you hurt your leg? Your footsteps sound a little off. Or is it always like that?”
Sia hesitated at the sharp question, debating for a moment before answering honestly.
“I got injured. But how the hell did you notice that?”
“There are ways to know these things. Hm… If you have ointment, make sure to use it regularly. If you don’t, just ask—I’ll lend you some. At least do that much. You need to heal quickly.
You don’t want the wound getting worse. Until it’s better, no running around. And don’t go kicking the ground in frustration either.”
Vivi’s tone was almost like that of an adult scolding a child.
Sia, who had in fact run around and kicked the ground a few times today, couldn’t exactly call it unnecessary concern.
Instead, his eyes just darted around awkwardly.
“Got it.”
The unfamiliar feeling of someone worrying over him made his response come out a bit hesitant.
A faint chuckle followed, and then silence settled between them.
* * *
