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Chapter Text

There were few estates within the Roan Kingdom that were better protected from a home invasion than the Henituse household. Yes, the money that they were able to lucratively pour into the economy by hiring only the best guards and fully staffing the household with individuals who were not just loyal by nature, but also quite motivated by generous remunerations to remain loyal to their employers.

That certainly offered the household security to assist the nobles to sleep well at night.

But there was another reason that the household was unquestionably a death trap to any unlikely sod who dared to make an attempt.

Roughly five years ago, the Henituse family had generously taken in a father and son of dubious background and kept them on the staff. The reason that they chose to do so was anyone’s guess but it was undisputed that the father was a flawless servant and the son, although he wasn’t forced to do so, was a great help in the kitchens.

They were reliable and capable people that anyone ought to feel lucky to have on staff. Truly, it was a beneficial situation for all involved.

Ron Molan, the father and flawless servant, wasn’t just valuable for his skills in running a household.

Ron held an icepick to the invaders neck, narrowing his eyes at the unfamiliar vagrant that had somehow appeared in the family’s wine cellar. If Ron weren’t so concerned over the sudden appearance, the man’s throat would have already been cut.

With a benign smile that belied none of the menace inside of him, Ron asked the man slowly and carefully. “And how exactly did you get in here, rat?”

Although the scarred man certainly had the physique of a person who could very well pose a medium threat to Ron if he knew how to use it properly, his pupils shook fearfully as he stared at Ron. “I… don’t know.” He offered lamely, wincing as Ron pressed the pick against his jugular. “I was at home reading…”

Ron searched him for lies and determined that the rat was either quite good at deception or he was telling the truth. It was also possible that both options were true but Ron wouldn’t get the answers he required if he slit the rat’s throat now.

Ron Molan was the number one reason that the Henituse household didn’t need to fear any external force. When the best assassin on the Eastern continuent called your estate his home, there was very little that one had to fear. At forty-five years old, Ron was still in his prime and quite capable of making this dirty rat regret ever trespassing.

That was the confidence that allowed him to pull the icepick away from the rat’s throat, watching as he fearfully rubbed his neck while watching Ron with fearful eyes.

He was a funny punk, at least in one way, although his eyes clearly portrayed how sincerely he dreaded Ron’s wrath the rest of his face was a mask of stoicism. He was tall, muscular, and covered in so many scars that even his modest clothes couldn’t conceal them all.

He was scared but not as scared as he ought to be. Ron’s lip twitched curiously.

Despite his appearance, there wasn’t a stench of blood on him. Ron would be willing to bet that he was a thief rather than a murderer, if he was a criminal at all.

What was also funny was the way that the rat looked around after Ron released him. He didn’t make any attempt to run, although his life would have ended very shortly after if he had, and he didn’t complain or fight either. He just swept his gaze over the wine cellar as though seeing it for the first time. His eyes were sharp and calculating as well. He was probably making a guess on how likely he was to survive this encounter.

Ron found him interesting.

There weren’t many people who caught his eye after his life had been destroyed five years ago. The only other person being the three year old young puppy that he enjoyed bullying in his spare time.

“Follow me.” Ron said, turning his back to the trespasser with the confidence of a man who could so easily return to separating his head from his neck. “This is no place to discuss matters.”

The rat followed after Ron obediently and Ron caught the wafting unease that practically oozed from him. He didn’t know what to make of Ron or of his situation but he was bright enough to realize that his best bet was to listen very carefully to Ron’s instructions and obey them to the letter.

Ron could appreciate that in a rat.

He guided him up to the servants' kitchens, knowing the area would be isolated at this time of night, and began preparing a pot of tea for the pair of them before gesturing for the rat to sit down and sat across from him.

“Where are my manners?” Ron asked with false embarrassment. “I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Ron. And what are you called, you dirty rat ?”

The rat’s eyes widened ever so slightly at Ron’s introduction, seemingly a new fear entering his thoughts. Ron wondered if he recognized the name. It was doubtful to do so without even a last name but it was only five years ago when Ron Molan was a feared name in the underworld. Although that was on the Eastern Continuent.

“Kim Roksu.” The rat replied stiffly. “...where am I?”

Ron waited until he’d served them both tea before replying with a chuckle. “What a foolish little rat you are. Lost underground for too long?” Ron smiled at him with a terrifyingly false friendliness. “This is the Henituse estate that you’ve crawled into, rat .”

Kim Roksu nearly dropped the cup he’d been handed, wide eyes full of a brand new fear that just about lit up Ron’s otherwise boring night.

The little rat he’d caught in the cellar was quite entertaining.

Although it was a touch strange just how fearful his expression became at the information. It was true that he ought to fear what he’d done, trespassing onto a noble’s property could quite easily lose him his head, but there was something else there that Ron wasn’t entirely sure about the reason behind.

“Oh. Thank you.” Kim Roksu said, his voice even despite his fear. And then after he’d taken a sip of the tea, wincing at the sour taste, Kim Roksu seemed to calm down all at once.

What a fascinating little rat he was.

“What’s the date?” He asked, his face a mask of stoicism that disguised most of his fear from Ron’s careful observation.

Ron answered, curious as to why the man would ask. “The first day of the 766th year of the Felix Calendar.”

The rat nodded, drinking the sour tea again with clear disgust for the taste but too good manners to admit to it.

As though he’d thought things over rather carefully, the rat finally asked. “How much do you get paid around here?”

Chapter Text

Ron had to admit, the rat filled out the uniform nicely. He had the right physique for the clothes and they hid the majority of his scars, making him look something like a guard dressing up as a servant. Yet, the outfit suited him. A handsome fit for the household.

Ron wasn’t keen on hiring the hapless rat that snuck inside but when the master had been apprised of the situation and met with the rat in question, Count Deruth Henituse had decided that they ought to either let the poor sod go or give him the job he asked for.

Ron had chosen the latter under the tried and true belief that one should only keep their potential enemies at cutting distance.

Amusingly, the rat appeared all too aware of Ron’s vicious thoughts. Ron had been living peacefully within the Henituse territory for five years now and no one had yet to see behind his benign smile. At least, not anyone who lived long enough to tell the tale.

Kim Roksu was an anomaly. One that Ron was intrigued to probe for answers. In fact, he quite intended to see just how far the filthy rat could be pushed before he squeaked.

Those plans, like many of Ron’s other machinations, were disrupted by the pattering of tiny feet as his toddler of a young master sniffed out his location. The child was far more similar to a puppy in Ron’s mind, always seeking out Ron’s presence and approval. Today he had rushed up and took hold of Ron’s pant leg, half hiding behind it as he stared at the intimidating new servant.

Kim Roksu made no obvious expression at the new arrival. He looked up from the task Ron had assigned him, looking down at the toddler, and returned to his task as though he hadn’t seen anything of interest.

Ron suppressed the desire to train his puppy of a young master to hunt rats.

As much as it would behoove him to see his fearless puppy of a young master biting the rat’s leg, he still hadn’t fully assessed how potentially dangerous the rat was.

Cale was far too interesting of a puppy to allow him to be endangered by a lowly rat.

“Who’s that?” Cale asked, wide brown eyes searching Ron’s face for answers. Ron had to wonder how the young master even knew that the rat was new here. There were so many servants who worked for the estate and Cale was only three.

He’d always been quite a perceptive puppy.

Ron’s lips twitched. “This rat–young man is a new servant starting today. I will be personally overseeing his training.”

Ron had the gratification of seeing the rat flinch at his words. Unlike the fearless young master, the rat knew how to properly fear his attention.

Cale took in Ron’s words and decided he’d had enough hiding behind Ron’s leg, toddling up to Kim Roksu and tugging at his pants.

The rat looked down and to Ron’s surprise, crouched down to Cale’s level. “Did you need something, young master?”

Most servants did their best to ignore Cale’s attention or responded as minimally as possible. It wasn’t done out of cruelty, it was merely not their place to address the young master or pay him any mind. Outside of a select few servants and a nanny, most did the job in front of them. It was neither their job nor responsibility to pay attention to a curious toddler.

Ron had expected the stoic looking rat to be even more intent on ignoring Cale than the others since he’d made it very clear with the greed shining in his eyes that the appeal this job held for him was solely in its remuneration.

Cale brightened magnificently at the attention and held out his arms. “Carry me!”

He tried this on everyone at least once. Most were mindful enough to politely reject the request.

Kim Roksu wordlessly picked up the boy in one arm and stood back up, seamlessly returning to the tidying task that Ron had assigned him as though he hadn’t just give up one arm to a giggling toddler.

“You’re tall!” Cale squealed happily and made a fuss so he could crawl up, looking over the rats shoulder to make eye contact with Ron. “He’s tall!” He repeated.

Ron chuckled to himself. Cale was at that age where pointing out the obvious was just the most interesting thing in the world. Perhaps it was because he finally had a fair vocabulary to describe the world around him but he lavished in every description as though he’d made some grand new discovery that everyone needed to hear about.

Kim Roksu let out a gruff. “Don’t say the obvious.” Which elicited another delighted giggle from Cale and caused him to fumble the cloth he’d been folding. Notably, even as Cale squirmed and giggled and made a nuisance of himself, the arm holding him never got close to fumbling or dropping the troublesome puppy.

What an interesting rat.

Ron’s true smile peeked out viciously as he observed the pair and listened as Cale continued his victorious spiel of saying things like that’s green ! And getting a stoic reply of yes, it’s green . An exchange that never ceased to delight the young master and only encouraged him to find more things to point out.

Ron followed after them silently. He’d given Kim Roksu a rather extensive list of tasks to complete before the end of the workday and he was curious to see how long the rat would last while tolerating the yapping puppy in his arms.

To Ron’s astonishment and intrigue, Kim Roksu never did get tired of it. At least outwardly. He only ever let the young master down when Cale requested it and stared off after Cale who was toddling away with the cautious eye of a person who knew about how easily an excited child could trip and fall, before he turned back to his assigned tasks.

Kim Roksu was efficient as well. Even with the toddler slowing him down, he was able to complete most everything that was asked of him with the efficiency of a professional. Yet he had the scent of a man who rarely saw peace.

How interesting. Ron’s lips twitched as he carefully observed his new pet rat.

Chapter Text

Kim Roksu was having a hell of a month. He was adjusting fairly well, all things considered, but the course of events that he was currently living through was undeniably strange enough to shake up any individual. He was quite lucky, in some respects, as quite unlike so many other people he really didn’t have anyone he’d miss back home.

On top of that, he’d managed to get himself a job upon his arrival. Considering his situation as a stranger, in every sense of the word, there was quite a bit of danger that he’d wind up starving on the streetside if he hadn’t gotten himself proper employment.

Roksu had already given homelessness a go once or twice, he didn’t fancy returning for another round.

The only real trouble was the plot . Dragged inside of the world of a novel wouldn’t be all that unfortunate. It was just that in this particular novel, the entire continent would be embroiled in war in only fifteen years time.

And the little boy currently perched on his shoulders and directing him about like a taxi would be one of the many minor villains that the protagonist would blow past on his journey to subdue his ultimate foes.

Even more unfortunately, Roksu’d only read up to the fifth novel so he didn’t even know who the final villain was .

Not that he had any intention of getting involved with that insane series of events. He was going to save up money and move somewhere untouched by the action while he allowed the protagonist to do his thing.

Not his problem, not even his world. He was very happy to leave it up to those with the time, energy, and strength to deal with it. He had retirement to think about. Besides, it had been one of those classic adventure munchkin novels. That crazy punk of a protagonist was going to ride whales and work alongside royalty. He was sure to handle the whole damn thing.

… but , there were probably a few senseless tragedies that Roksu could avoid. Just some odds and ends here and there. Nothing that would disrupt the plot too severely. After all, the munchkin needed to go on his hero’s journey if the insanity of the ‘mysterious secret organization’ was to be stopped.

Just, there were a lot of people who didn’t necessarily have to die along the way. Roksu really wasn’t planning to do anything big. What could he seriously do in this insane fantasy world full of vicious munchkins? He was just an exhausted cog overworking himself for a company that was always stingy about overtime pay.

He wasn’t the sort of person who could make a difference even if he put in the effort to do so.

“No–! That way!”

Roksu sighed and obediently followed the toddler's instruction, turning away from the previous direction Cale had told him to go without a single complaint. He’d already learned that disobedience could very well lead to hair pulling. And if he wasn’t careful, even sniffling.

Not wanting snotty bald spots, Roksu wisely chose to obey the young master's whims.

The young master's indecisive leadership led him all the way to the kitchens and Roksu was a bit grateful for it. He’d completed most of what Ron expected of him for the day but he didn’t fancy finding out what would happen if he was caught lollygagging for whatever reason.

Luckily, Ron didn’t come to the kitchens much to Roksu’s observation. Or maybe he just spent too much of his time menacing Roksu to have any time to go down to a room that was, technically speaking, outside of his jurisdiction and into the jurisdiction of the chefs.

There was one chef that Roksu dreaded meeting with but the kitchen was blessedly absent of terrifying torture experts.

“Make me a snack!” Cale demanded, crawling up so that he could peek over Roksu’s head and glare him in the eyes. He certainly was skilled at making demands. And quite challenging to keep perfectly balanced.

Roksu let out a low chuckle and nodded, checking the contents of the kitchen for anything recognizable and finding relief in the familiar objects that he could so easily utilize.

“Alright then. Would you like to help?”

Cale’s bright brown eyes lit up eagerly at the suggestion and he nodded so vigorously that he almost collided their skulls together. Roksu expertly plucked the toddler from his perch and sat him on the counter before handing him a loaf of bread that Cale stared at in absolute puzzlement.

“This is bread.” He said in his usual attempt to receive praise by pointing out the obvious and to hide his embarrassing confusion.

What a stubborn punk.

Roksu patted his head gently. “Yes, it is. Good job. Place it on that tray for me.”

Light dawned in his face as Cale now had a task he could succeed at and with great ceremony he placed it onto the cutting board.

Roksu was just about to pick Cale backup while he sliced the bread when a noise from the doorway disrupted the harmonious scene.

Terrifying images of torture and assassination filled the back of Roksu’s eyes as he turned to see who it was. A terror that immediately dwindled away at the stick thin teen boy who was standing there with a look of disgust on his face.

“...feet on the counter…” He said, clearly more to himself than the pair he’d caught. From the looks of him, he was a helper in the kitchens and probably didn’t fancy having to disinfect the counters after the young master had finished making it thoroughly unhygienic for cooking.

Roksu relaxed and picked Cale up into his arms before facing the boy. “I’m making a snack for the young master. I was planning to clean afterwards.” He assured just so that the boy wouldn’t feel put upon. “Would you like to help out?”

The boy scowled at him sourly in only the way a teen could manage before marching over and inspecting the mess they’d made thus far. “I’ll make it. You stay back.” He said.

Roksu was happy to surrender the work to another but Cale had other ideas. “No!” He struggled against Roksu’s grip and was put down gently. “I’m helping too!” He rushed over and grabbed the boy’s pant leg, looking up at him equal parts pleading and demanding.

Roksu was able to watch up close when the boy’s determination to kick them out broke. He clicked his tongue. “Fine.” His eyes swept over the counter for a task that the boy could be trusted with. “Wash the vegetables.”

Cale nodded excitedly and turned around, holding out his arms for Roksu to lift him back up and carry him towards the vegetables in question.

Roksu’s lip twitched as he obediently ‘assisted’ the young master in completing his assigned task. It mostly consisted of Roksu doing the work but allowing Cale to touch the cabbage while it was being rinsed. Nevertheless, his success absolutely delighted Cale.

By the time they’d carried over all of the cleaned vegetables, the teen had already prepared a quite appetizing cheese platter that showcased either a natural skill in the kitchens or constant practice. Either way, Roksu was impressed.

He looked up at them and accepted the cabbage Cale was still clutching victoriously and to Roksu’s surprise, he offered the boy a rough “good job” before he started on the salad.

A grumpy teen but an unmistakably sweet kid.

“This looks professional.” He commented truthfully, sneaking a bite and smiling in appreciation. “It’s good too. You’d make an excellent chef.”

As though that was all the boy ever wanted to hear in this world, narrow brown eyes looked up at Roksu as though he were the best person ever. The look made Roksu feel awkward so he avoided it, wondering why the teen could possibly be so happy over a simple statement of fact.

Cale followed Roksu’s lead though, snatching an expertly prepared and bite sized snack. As though prepared with his grubby little hands in mind. Cale munched down on it and nodded in approval, mimicking Roksu’s praise. “It’s good!”

The teen’s lip twitched and he turned back to his work, determined to make the best snacks possible for the invading duo.

It was with this light atmosphere that Roksu felt the now familiar spine tingling terror of being watched.

Of course Ron couldn’t show him the decency of making a sound.

Roksu turned around, nearly flinching at the sight of the stiff benign smile on the servant's face. He wasn’t the only one to notice either. Alongside Cale’s excited greeting, there was the much more subdued greeting of “Father.” from the teen beside him.

All of the blood drained from Roksu’s face as he faced the assassin.

‘Aigoo… my poor life…’

Chapter Text

Was it his imagination or was the old terrifying assassin watching him even more closely recently?

Ever since the incident in the kitchen, wherein Roksu had excused himself as quickly as feasibly possible, it felt like he hardly took a step without Ron haunting his shadow. To top it off, the lanky teen version of the future vicious torture expert also sought out his opinion frequently.

He couldn’t for the life of him understand why. He’d hardly met the teen for a half hour and there wasn’t anything memorable about it, aside from how impressive his food was and how Roksu’s heart just about jumped to his throat at the sight of his father, and now Vicross sought him out with a variety of different dishes. Or just lingered nearby when Roksu was working.

He felt somewhat like there were two chicks following him everywhere he went. With a venomous cobra looming behind them and eyeing him with barely contained malice.

Roksu felt somewhat wronged over the situation. He’d only done his job dutifully. What did he do to deserve being watched with such hostility? He understood that Ron had a right to be suspicious of a stranger appearing in the wine cellar but this was getting excessive.

As of right now, Roksu was doing his very best to prepare the dining room table. It was quite a task to do with Cale tucked under one arm, refusing to rest on Roksu’s shoulders today and choosing to nuzzle against his shoulder. At his side was Vicross, intent on having Roksu listen to his idea for an honestly amazing sounding three course meal that he hoped to prepare someday, and just behind him was the aura of death itself contained in a benign smile.

Roksu just wanted to floor to swallow him up whole.

A hand brushed up against his own and Roksu nearly jumped out of his skin. Ron had deftly changed positions and was moving Roksu’s fork laden hand to the opposite side of the plate. “The salad fork goes here.” He instructed, not even a hint of his true murderous nature leaking into the kindly tone.

Roksu was petrified as he nodded, taking extra careful note of how the setting should look to avoid having to endure such a heart stopping experience ever again.

Terror was definitely the reason that the feel of Ron’s thin gloved fingertips lingered on his hand, making him feel self conscious about, well, just about everything.

Roksu didn’t have the opportunity to recover before Cale’s curious finger prodded his neck. “What’s that?” He asked.

Roksu heard the very distinct silence of those curious to hear the answer. Cale had poked one of his many scars that the uniform couldn’t conceal. It was honestly a miracle that the curious child hadn’t asked sooner but Roksu still hated the timing of the question.

He didn’t know why he could just hear Vicross and Ron’s interest in his answer and he didn’t particularly want to know why.

He decided to keep his answer vague, mostly because he didn’t want to talk about it and even more so because a more specific answer would only subject him to more questions. “I didn’t move fast enough.” He said and patted Cale on the head.

Cale frowned and poked it again. “...does it hurt?”

Roksu’s hand free hand moved smoothly to arrange the next plate and silverware setting, trying to ignore how he could still feel Ron’s touch. It was probably because he was so distressed that he accidentally answered honestly. “Sometimes.”

Cale stopped poking it and looked up at Roksu aghast, his chubby fingers bunching up on Roksu’s shirt so that he could grab Roksu’s attention. “Who did it? I’ll beat them up!”

‘...who the hell is teaching this kid such things?’ Roksu thought in amazement. Then he considered Ron and he thought that it was lucky that the kid wasn’t offering to shank someone for him. “They’re gone now.” Roksu said placatingly.

He could still feel Ron’s piercing glare and he did not much care for how it set his fight or flight instincts into overdrive. He focused on Cale instead and tried to pretend that the vicious danger of his fellow servant wasn’t leaning just over his shoulder.

Cale’s lips protruded in a pout that he couldn’t do anything to bring justice to the vagrants who dared to cause harm to his favorite vehicle of transportation. Feeling that he ought to do something at least, Cale patted the scar comfortingly. “Tell me if anyone bullies you, okay? I’ll beat them up.”

‘What a vicious kid.’   Despite his thoughts, Roksu’s lip twitched ever so slightly and he adjusted his grip on Cale so he could complete his task. “I’ll make sure to do that, young master.”

Cale puffed out his chest proudly and for reasons unknown, stuck out his tongue at Vicross. For reasons even more a mystery to Roksu, Vicross added in. “Tell me too.”

‘The only one bullying me is your father.’ Roksu was mystified as to the future torture-experts words but nodded wordlessly regardless. Apparently this was enough to please Vicross and he fixed Cale with a cool stare that had the toddler making even more faces at him.

Roksu fastidiously ignored them as he completed the table and stepped back to observe his handiwork.

“My, my.”

The words were so close that Roksu would have screamed if he wasn’t absolutely paralyzed into stillness. Ron was smiling as he looked over Roksu’s handiwork but that was absolutely no indication of his satisfaction with the work in question.

“You certainly are a quick learner.” Ron turned a gaze that gleamed viciously to Roksu. “This is quite a serviceable job for a rat .” The way he said rat brought to mind a person placing poisoned cheese oh-so-delicately on a trap designed to break the spine of the poor rodent with one decisive snap .

Roksu nodded mutely. It was usually safer to avoid talking when Ron affixed his attention on him. Well, in truth Roksu hadn’t actually attempted speaking very much in Ron’s presence but he was too scared to find out what would happen if he did so.

Ron patted his arm in a deceptively friendly way and walked away.

‘...I don’t know what’s gonna kill me first. That vicious old man or the heart attacks he gives me.’ Roksu thought. He placed Cale down as the toddler was intent on starting some nonsensical argument with Vicross. Something about who was the more reliable protector, it didn’t make any sense to Roksu so he let the children have their spat.

His eyes lingered on where Ron had been. The frightful bastard had a way of making Roksu do that.

Roksu blamed it on the terror and went about the delicate task of calming the children down so that they could prepare for dinner.

Chapter Text

Now this situation simply wasn’t ideal.

Roksu really had to wonder what god he’d offended to wind up in this detestable circumstance. And then when he found out, he was going to smack the bastard over the back of his head.

What sort of insane sadist would trap him in a small space with arguably the most terrifying person he’d ever encountered in his admittedly colorful life.

The culprits of this crime against Roksu’s poor abused heart were arguing just outside the door as they jiggled the handle and assured the two trapped servant’s that they would swiftly find a solution.

That might have offered Roksu any comfort at all if the duo attempting to come to his rescue wasn’t an arrogant toddler and a grumpy teenager. After confirming for the upteenth time that the door was indeed locked tight, the pair finally disappeared to find a person with the keys.

Roksu held very little hope in their success. At least not before he’d been done away with at the assassin’s leisure.

The only light in the storage closet was the dim hallway light creeping in from under the door and Roksu could just barely make out a vicious smile on Ron’s face out of the corner of his eye.

Seriously, what the hell had he done to become so vehemently hated by Ron? Ron certainly kept a critical eye on all of the staff but he had a special menace designed explicitly for Kim Roksu.

Roksu chose silence as a defense, standing stolidly with his face towards the door and awaited the return of their hapless heroes. Cale and Vicross were going to need to learn how to work together to succeed in this task, that thought alone was of some amusement to Roksu. He had no idea why but the pair of them appeared to have a strange rivalry going on.

At least it helped to ease his fear of Vicross. It was really hard to stay scared of a scrawny teenager who’s biggest rival was a goddamn toddler. No matter how vicious they were bound to become when they grew up.

“Such a scared little rat.” Ron observed.

‘If you know, could you maybe not fuck with me so much?’ Roksu suppressed a sigh. There was no use in that. The vicious bastard probably got a sadistic thrill out of terrorizing Roksu. Lord only knows why.

Ron’s shoulder brushed up against his arm and he couldn’t help but be hyper aware of it, fixating on the single touch with all of the dread his terrified mind could muster. Despite all expectation though, Ron wasn’t icy to the touch. That ought to be obvious but he certainly gave off the aura of a man who was indeed cold blooded. Roksu wouldn’t be remotely surprised to learn that the Molan family were secretly snake beast people or something crazy like that. But Ron’s shoulder was warm and felt quite nice aside from dread of what he’d do next.

“Perhaps now is a good time to inquire.” Ron’s voice was thoughtful and low. The sound of it sent a chill running down Roksu’s spine and he chanced a look down at Ron’s face, finding a face horrifyingly bereft of the benign smile.

He was still smiling though. It was a grim smile that spoke of the screams of all those who probably saw it only once before never seeing anything again.

Ron’s gloved hand caressed the scar that Cale had been prodding a few weeks ago. The feel of his touch absolutely paralyzed Roksu. “Where did you get this scar, my little rat?”

Roksu was so unnerved by the situation that he almost entirely missed the possessive particle denoting that Ron had ownership of him. He took the words as a threat though, that Roksu was nothing more than a rat in the palm of his hand and therefore in Ron’s possession to do whatever he liked with.

Roksu swallowed thickly, searching for an answer that would be acceptable. Perhaps his answer from before had led Ron to feel suspicious about his identity or background?

What a headache. Roksu wished that Ron wouldn’t tap the old injury so thoughtfully. As though threatening to tear it open again if he didn’t like what Roksu had to say. Really, was there anything about Ron Molan that wasn’t some sort of implicit threat?

Roksu chose honesty, of a sort, adjusting the fine details to fit in more neatly with the world he currently lived in. “The town I lived in was attacked. We fought back. I made it out with my life. Most people didn’t.”

Ron’s figure froze mid tap as though Roksu’s words had struck a nerve inside of him. Finally he pulled his hand away and offered Roksu some blessed peace. “Is that so?” He said coldly, absolutely no inflection of a question in his words. “Is it true then that the one who gave you that scar is ‘gone’ as you put it?”

Ah. That was it. He’d somehow managed to grasp onto Roksu’s one fib. What a terrifying ability to read people. Roksu was introduced to a brand new reason to fear the assassin turned servant. “...those that attacked are gone.” He said.

“The scar?” Ron pressed. He really was obnoxiously persistent and Roksu didn’t want to find out what sort of man he became when his patience snapped.

Roksu sighed. “I caused this scar.”

The silence was filled with a palpable tension that Roksu couldn’t possibly guess the source of.

The warmth of Ron’s shoulder disappeared from his arm and Roksu looked towards him with half curiosity and half fear.

Ron’s smile was terrifyingly and perfectly benign.

“Is that so.”

Roksu never got to learn whatever terrifying thing Ron had to say next because the door jiggled once more and the sound of keys was heard. He heaved a sigh of relief at the sound that only lasted for a second before Ron’s featherlight touch on his scar sent tingles spreading from the spot and all over his body.

“Best not to let it happen again, right?” Ron’s voice was as light as his touch, the sound caressing Roksu’s ear with a distinct malice that had Roksu nodding hurriedly in response.

‘Obviously I wouldn’t let it happen again. I hate pain.’ Roksu felt somewhat wronged by the implication that he wouldn’t take proper care of himself but he wasn’t about to argue with the vicious man at his side. “That’s my intention.”

Ron’s touch disappeared as the door opened and Cale rushed in to hug both of their legs in an awkward toddler hug that nearly tripped Roksu. Vicross stood with the key and a strange frown on his face as he observed the pair of them.

Roksu ignored this as a whole lot of not my problem , plucked up the distressed toddler, and retreated from the cramped closet.

Strangely he could still feel Ron’s warmth at his side.

Chapter Text

Kim Roksu had a unique concept of a day off. While most people might utilize time away from work to relax their weary bones, especially if one aspired to be a slacker, he had the talent to create more work for himself.

His excuse, as always, was that he wouldn’t be able to rest peacefully unless it was dealt with.

Should anyone have heard this excuse, they would have laughed in his face. It was probably in his best interest that he hadn’t yet found anyone to share his future dreams and aspirations with within this new world he found himself in.

He did however find himself sharing his time off with a murderous sociopath who had, upon hearing that Roksu was taking time off, decided that it was a grand old time to take his first vacation in the five years since he started working at the Henituse estate.

Roksu, after a brave attempt to escape, decided that if he couldn’t escape the semi-constant observation of the old assassin that he may as well make some use of him.

“So my little rat wants to sneak into someone else’s cellars?” There was a dangerous glint to his eyes that sent a chill down Roksu’s spine as he unpacked his supplies onto the table between them. It would be a difficult mission for one person but it wouldn’t get that much easier with the addition of a single helper, even if that helper was someone as terrifying as Ron.

And what was with Ron adding little possessive particles like that? It made Roksu feel strange.

“Cave, technically.” Roksu said as he pulled out a map of the mountain and explained their route.

He’d done some math and sought out some information in the area and he was sure that the prize he sought was going to be waiting should he seek it out. Best of all, the security was significantly more lax at the moment than what it would become in a few years because at the moment there wasn’t much to ‘guard’.

Ron’s calculating eyes danced across the map and back towards the fussing man in front of him who had prepared quite thoroughly for this infiltration. Quite professionally as well.

For someone who claimed to have only landed in the Henituse cellars by coincidence, Roksu appeared to have an awful lot of experience getting into places where he ought not be. Ron’s smile twisted with amusement as he rather thoughtlessly began cleaning something in his hands.

Roksu, with shaking pupils and the tiniest gulp, finished explaining their plan. To his relief, Ron didn’t slit his throat or whatever else the terrifying bastard might want to do.

“And what exactly are we extracting from this cave with such care?”

Roksu’s finger tapped the map. He knew that Ron would figure it out one way or another and it was better to keep him fully informed if he was participating with the mission. But he still couldn’t read the vicious servant all that well and did he have to clean his dagger right now? Was he trying to be terrifying? Because it was working.

“An egg.” Roksu said, placing his finger on the approximate location. “A dragon egg. They plan to tame it when it hatches.”

There was a meaningful silence between the two. If Ron was the soppy sort then Roksu might have emphasized how they intended to train the baby dragon in order to appeal to his bleeding heart but Ron didn’t strike him as the type to get morally indignant over tragedy.

Besides, Ron was smart. He could easily put together what taming might entail from the sort of people that they were stealing from. That was at least the easy part of working with Ron. He didn’t need to explain that much for Ron to understand the situation clearly. It was also the terrifying part of working with Ron, he always felt like the assassin saw him much too clearly for Roksu’s comfort.

“Hoo… I see.” Ron said, a twisted look in his eyes as he smiled benignly, his dagger glinting in the moonlight from the window to their cramped room at the inn. It was the best Roksu could afford and Roksu knew that Ron could afford his own room but he had that I’m not letting you out of my sight look that sent shivers down Roksu’s spine. At least they weren’t really planning to spend the night here.

He could only imagine what curling up on that cramped bed next to Ron of all people might be like. He hardly wanted to imagine it. The idea was far too terrifying. He doubted he’d wake up at all the following morning.

From there, the pair worked in silence. Ron didn’t inquire more about the dragon or even information about how Roksu knew but instead he watched Roksu with razor sharp eyes that looked for everything and found just that.

Roksu was that sort of person. He gave away absolutely nothing personal and held everything so close to his chest. But Ron merely had to look at what was being held so close and dear to read everything he needed to know about his little rat.

Strangely, even after seeing everything that Roksu exposed thoughtlessly about himself with his stoic expression, conservative clothing, scared up body, and terrified eyes, Ron always found himself wanting to know just a bit more about him.

Roksu had incited his interest as it were. And Ron was finding that when he was interested, he couldn’t help but greedily seek out more. Just to see how the cute little rat squeaked in the palm of his hand.

The pair of them moved silently through the night, meticulously following Roksu’s route with the air of professionals.

It was like a dance in the moonlight.

That was how Ron had thought about stealthy missions such as this in the years when they were as normal as taking a stroll in the sunlight.

Back then, he’d had a partner to dance with.

Now he was alone.

His gaze flickered to where Roksu was. The man was managing to keep up but it was clear that he’d let himself get out of shape during his stay at the Henituse estate. Ron had done no such thing though.

He wondered what sort of man would work so hard to maintain a physique like that and then immediately drop all efforts upon starting a new career.

A man that let go of the past, probably.

As Ron thought of the person he used to dance along in the moonlight with, he lied to himself and claimed that he had let go. That he had accepted their new lives. For his son. For their future. For survival.

The dagger clenched so murderously in his hand told the truth though.

For the woman that danced the moonlight with him, he would never be over it and he would never let go and one day–one day his dagger would find the throats of those who had taken her.

Still, watching his little rat work so hard to keep up and complete his insane quest, Ron was able to feel just a bit of warmth return to his cold heart.

He’d amuse himself with his little pet rat for the time being.

Chapter Text

The firelight danced on his face, as stoic as ever, and illuminated his brown eyes. He looked just the same as ever although there was certainly something different about his expression with the large black egg sitting at his side. Ron watched silently and thoughtfully as Kim Roksu ate the humble meal that Ron had prepared for them both. His flinch after the first bite was more than enough to confirm to Ron that he didn’t like sour things.

Yet, he still ate every bite. Ron knew this was partially out of fear. Roksu was clearly fearful of Ron’s skills and Ron had done a few things to put him into fear throughout the trip. For example, he’d made a point of skinning the rabbits he’d caught right where Roksu could see.

It wasn’t his fault his little rat made such amusing expressions when he was scared.

But Ron had the feeling there was something more than just fear in the way Roksu ate.

Ron noticed it awhile ago but Roksu always ate everything he was presented with, no matter how foul it looked or smelled. And he ate it as though grateful for any food at all.

Ron could recognize what that meant and it always brought him a strange swell of agitation to think of his silly little pet rat being starved. Clearly Roksu hadn’t been starved for some time now but the eating habits remained. Meaning the experience was either traumatic enough to stay with him or over a lengthy enough period of time that it just became a habit. It could also be both.

It was possible his little rat had been in a cage, which would be a shame, mice were meant for cages but rats , rats ought to roam freely for Ron to catch.

“What?” Roksu looked up at him as if only just noticing that Ron had been staring. It was a poor lie. He’d been clearly uncomfortable with Ron’s gaze on him for some time now. Although Ron would admit that most who weren’t as experienced with reading others might just be fooled.

Ron smiled back sweetly and luxuriated in the amusing way his little rat winced at the sight. It was just too easy to toy with him and somehow ceaselessly amusing to do so.

Dimly Ron was aware that perhaps his interest in his pet was becoming a bit strange. Although for the time being, he just amused himself with his adorable reactions.

“I was wondering what you hoped to do with that egg, rat.” Ron lied. He didn’t particularly care what Roksu intended for the egg. If it was something reprehensible, he’d slit the rat’s throat, if it was benign he’d let the tiny creature play with its new toy. For Ron, it was that simple. Besides, it was amusing to see what next interesting move he would make next.

Ron had been keeping an especially close eye on Kim Roksu during his stay at the Henituse estate and truly, the rat only got more and more suspicious with his every activity. He did his job diligently each day and indulged the young masters every whim. He even spent quite a bit of time with Vicross which was interesting as well. Vicross rarely showed any interest in other people, especially after what had happened, his adorable little rat certainly was an interesting creature to have caught even his son’s attention.

But when working hours were over, Roksu didn’t rest. Oh no , he was in correspondence with at least two other neighboring kingdoms that Roksu had managed to sniff out and had even begun a strange alliance with the Flynn guild. He also spent his first vacation days since arriving to retrieve this egg.

The world was moving and it seemed to Ron that Kim Roksu intended to move just ahead of the world. Although for what reasons, Ron had no knowledge. He was fascinated to find out. Of course, if it proved hazardous for Ron, his family, or his benefactors, then Ron would simply go rat hunting.

Roksu shrugged. “Find a secluded place for it and leave it?” He suggested, far too carelessly for a person who’d only just engaged in a meticulous plan to steal that very same egg only a few days ago.

Ron’s mouth twitched with amusement. “You have no use for it? If you’d like, this Ron could make us omelets in the morning.”

It was worth it for the way Roksu cringed at the suggestion. Really, he was such a cute pet.

“...that won’t be necessary.” Roksu said, shifting quite subtly closer to the egg as though nervous that Ron would actually do such a thing.

Ron would be a liar if he didn’t admit that it offered him a sort of thrill.

He’d never been the sort of man who relished in being feared, it was simply that living as a benign servant for five years when he’d spent the previous thirty being the feared patriarch of the Molran family was an adjustment that had certain drawbacks.

It could, on occasion, feel a bit stifling.

Feeling a bit stifled was a small price to pay for the lives of him and his son but it didn’t mean that there weren’t days that Ron missed the thrill of being a predator. Kim Roksu gave him just that thrill and yet…

Ron found that he had no desire to hunt this delightfully suspicious prey.

Perhaps he’d gotten old. An old cat past its prime and playing with its food for the meaningless sadism of seeing the squeaking little thing attempt to run away.

That was indeed the most curious thing about Roksu.

He was clearly petrified of Ron and yet he made no attempt to run away from him, no matter how he was teased or tormented. A trembling little rat between his paws that kept gathering up his stolen cheese as though his terror did nothing to stop him.

It was fascinating and a bit cute.

Yet Ron had the distinct feeling that Kim Roksu was a man who was used to far greater fears. Well, if his story about his background was true, he had experienced plenty to fear in his lifetime. Lost all there was to lose.

Ron’s gaze traced over the scars that crawled up Roksu’s neck so curiously and his fingers twitched. An itch to touch them once more and feel Roksu’s racing pulse beneath his skin.

How very curious.

Ron really couldn’t get enough of his little pet rat’s antics.

Chapter Text

Roksu had long since accepted that his new normal involved being constantly observed, teased, and tormented by the terrifying assassin turned servant, Ron Molran. The man was the pure definition of the word vicious and for whatever reason he’d taken a particular interest in Roksu’s activities.

It was just as he accepted that his life now included babysitting a hyperactive three year old whenever his parents were too busy to attend to him. Or to taste-test for an insecure teenager who had aspirations to become a chef but a talent for torture.

What was truly fascinating was how Roksu adjusted to that new normal. It was true that a person could only spend so long terrified of the world before they simply accepted whatever the new normal was. Roksu had seen first hand as the entirety of society adjusted to a world with monsters practically overnight and adapted to included monster attacks to be as normal a concept as car accidents. Terrible tragedies but an inevitable aspect of living in the world as it was.

Roksu had comparably a lot less to get used to while he worked at the Henituse estate.

Still, he couldn’t have anticipated just how much he’d adjusted to this queer new normal.

Roksu frowned as he looked behind him in search of the menacing presence that normally haunted him through these halls.

Ron hadn’t made an appearance all day. Roksu had been able to complete his duties undisturbed by the servant’s terrifying attention. There were no subtle touches as his gloved hand guided Roksu’s own or caressed Roksu’s scars as though threatening him that I could make more or a warmth at his side and there were no sharp eyes pinning him to the spot or dishonest smile hiding dark intentions.

Theoretically, Roksu ought to be celebrating his absence and he had. Initially at least. Finally, a break from the vicious assassin…!

Yet, as the day dragged on Roksu found himself searching for Ron around every corner.

It was only rational to do so. After all, if Ron wasn’t currently present or visible there was always the chance that he was plotting something truly diabolical to do to Roksu and it would be in his best interest to prepare himself for the worst.

That was rational .

But irrationally Roksu’s body missed the tingle of his touch and his ears missed his deceptively warm voice. Roksu chalked it up to the new normal . Of course once you’ve grown accustomed to something, even something as terrifying as Ron Molran, the sudden absence could leave you out of sorts. Roksu was merely having the logical reaction to a gap in his life that his body had come to anticipate.

There was obviously no reason to worry about Ron because, well, he was Ron . It was difficult to say that there was a single person as terrifying as Ron Molran inside of the entire Henituse territory.

Well, there definitely was another person as terrifying as Ron but he was a problem to be dealt with another day. Roksu still needed to find an efficient method of extracting that particular problem without disrupting matters too much. He did already have a few ideas in motion but…

Roksu’s thoughts trailed into nothing as he heard an approach and was disappointed to see it was just a maid turning a corner with a tea tray.

And then Roksu was left with the maddening confusion over why he was disappointed that it wasn’t his tormenter.

Was he Pavlov's dog now? Had Ron conditioned him into some strange emotional response just to watch him squirm? He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the vicious man did just that but he knew well enough that was unlikely.

With nothing but his own strange thoughts to keep him company, Roksu cleared the counter utilized only just earlier for the countesses tea party. He’d been so consumed in his task that he’d barely noticed the arrival of a new presence.

Tiny rush steps and a squeal heralded the arrival of Cale Henituse before he wrapped chubby arms around Roksu’s legs. “Roksu!”

Roksu looked down at bright and warm brown eyes belonging to the young master and future lout and wondered, not for the first time, how the hell this endearing child became such a crazy bastard. Then again, it was hard to imagine Vicross as a torture expert when the scrawny boy only really looked happy when he cooked. People did indeed change with time.

Roksu leaned down and scooped up Cale into his arms out of habit, earning himself a pleased grin and a congratulatory pat from the toddler once he’d done so. If anyone was training him like a dog, it was definitely this troublesome young master. Roksu’s lip twitched as he awaited Cale’s orders for the day.

“Roksu! Help me find Ron!” Cale demanded, puffing out his chest to make himself look tougher than he was. “I can’t find him anywhere!”

It was strange how quickly Roksu’s unease with Ron’s absence morphed into genuine worry. He stifled the feeling though. There was no one who could cause Ron harm here and he was probably off doing something vicious and terrifying to other people.

Still… Roksu nodded his ascent to Cale’s earnest demand. He’d just take the boy around the estate to a few of Ron’s usual haunts and the three year old was sure to get distracted by something much more entertaining along the way.

“Where’s Vicross?” Roksu asked curiously. He hadn’t seen the teen nearby and it had been an increasing certainty of late that where Cale wandered, Vicross would follow grouchily behind. It was cute how the teen felt responsible for the troublemaker despite finding him so annoying. Sometimes it reminded Roksu of how brother’s might act.

Cale’s lip trembled in a miserable pout. “He said to leave him alone today.” Cale huffed and turned away. “I didn’t want to see him anyway!”

Ah, the poor kid missed his playmate. Roksu patted his head gently to comfort him as he went along his circuit to search out the elusive Ron Molran.

It was strange, but as they continued the search Roksu found himself more and more invested in finding the vicious servant. He had no reason to want to and every reason to avoid seeing Ron but a tickle of worry in his gut and that strange sensation of missing his ‘new normal’ drove him forth to search with quite a bit more effort than he’d intended.

When they finally did spot Ron, standing beside Vicross and tending to a single tree, Roksu didn’t approach. He even gently shushed Cale as he spotted them.

There was something in the somber air around the pair as they worked.

Roksu felt a bit more like he was watching them care for a gravestone rather than a plant. Roksu had seen this far too many times. After all, in the apocalypse there wasn’t normally the time for a gravestone or even a burial, so people found things to symbolize those they lost and they honored those instead. Sometimes they’d plant a tree or a flower, sometimes they’d treasure a single item.

All Roksu could know for sure was that the expression on Ron’s normally benign face stole his breath away.

He quietly left the pair to their ritual, assuring Cale that he would be able to play with Ron later and that for today, he’d be able to play with Roksu as much as he wanted.

It was best not to disturb people on days like this.

Chapter Text

Roksu really needed to figure out what to do about this egg.

Currently the balky thing took up a significant amount of room in his quarters and sat there without any defense in the world. Of course no one, sans Ron, had any reason to even suspect that he had a dragon egg in his room so it was as safe as anywhere else.

Roksu was planning to ditch the egg at the soonest possible interval but he had yet to find a satisfactory place to leave it on its own. Should he find a dragon? Was that even feasible? It would be pretty pointless overall if he were to rescue the damn thing, leave it in a cave, only to have it get kidnapped all over again.

For now he just kept it in his room as a makeshift clothes rack for the last few months.

It just wasn’t really all that urgent to find a place for it, the egg wasn’t due to hatch for another ten years or so, and Roksu had a personal policy against dealing with a problem today that could be put off for tomorrow.

Basically he was procrastinating.

And in the meantime, his dirty laundry was carelessly tossed atop the noble dragon egg to the extent that no one would guess that there was anything of importance in that corner.

Well, no one except the little delinquent who had chosen to sneak into Roksu’s room and curl up next to the faint warmth that emanated from the egg. It was apparently comfortable enough to put the rascal to sleep.

Roksu sighed and crouched next to the tiny punk who snuck into his room.

Cale shifted in his sleep and nuzzled against the egg, causing one of Roksu’s shirts to flop down on top of him. The silly child snored in his sleep and Roksu unburied him before picking him up. Cale didn’t wake up in the least but he did frown in his sleep.

Really, why was this kid always seeking out his company? He had a proper nanny and parents, there was no reason for him to sneak out around into some random servants room.

‘...what a strange punk.’ Roksu thought as he carried Cale out of his room. He’d definitely need to do something about the egg now that Cale found it. Although the toddler was unlikely to have any idea what it even was.

“I see you found the young master.”

A shiver ran down Roksu’s spine as he turned to see Ron’s benign smile. The vicious bastard probably knew the whole time where Cale was. Hell, knowing him, he probably derived some amusement from revealing the location of the dragon egg.

Roksu frowned at Ron and adjusted his hold on the sleeping toddler. “Is there someone looking for him?”

Ron smiled and shook his head, placing a gentle hand on Roksu’s arm and standing just far too close for comfort. “I just wondered how long it would take you to notice.”

There was a teasing glint to his eyes that caught Roksu in a strange way.

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. In fact, everything fit in neatly with the new normal that Roksu had grown accustomed to. The toddler version of the future lout stalking his footsteps, Ron invading his personal space in order to petrify him with some vicious teasing, a feather light touch on his arm, and an unreadable look in his eyes that looked so very much like a cat that found its prey.

It was normal.

So exceptionally normal that Roksu really couldn’t understand it.

Why did his heart skip and his face heat up?

Why did he find himself entirely unable to look away from dark brown eyes that sparkled with mischief?

Why was he suddenly struck with the now excessively familiar sight of Ron Molran?

As quickly as the moment struck, it passed by. The assassin brushed on by Roksu with a chuckle of amusement. His low voice tickling Roksu’s sense as he walked past. “It took you longer than I expected.”

Vicious and terrifying bastard. A shiver ran down Roksu’s spine as he listened to Ron’s retreating footsteps and checked up on the boy in his arms. Cale’s chubby cheeks were squished up against Roksu’s tie and the kid was muttering something that sounded suspiciously like insolent commoners in his sleep.

For a crazy lout who was going to one day pick a fight with the protagonist, Cale was an awfully cute kid. He was also clearly protected by that terrifying servant. Roksu might be scared witless of Ron, but he wasn’t dumb.

There were very few reasons that Ron would be waiting outside Roksu’s room like that, knowing full well that Cale had snuck inside. He was worried about the curious toddler who always managed to escape his nannies. He’d seen an opportunity to watch over Cale and menace Roksu so of course Ron couldn’t pass that up.

Roksu was feeling as though he was starting to understand Ron. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that but for the time being he was stuck living in the Henituse household so it was better to understand the bloodthirsty assassin than the alternative.

The only trouble was that now Roksu was having some trouble understanding his own thoughts and feelings.

Precisely why was he beginning to fixate on Ron’s presence? He knew by now that Ron wasn’t going to kill him unless Roksu gave him a reason. Something that he had no intention of doing ever. He planned to live a long and happy life where he finally achieved slacker status after retirement. Ideally an early retirement.

Cale stirred in his arms as Roksu finally approached the nursery and surrendered the boy to a flustered nanny. Ron really was a mean spirited person. He probably knew just how worried the nanny was and did absolutely nothing about it.

Although Roksu couldn’t say he had much sympathy for her. She did lose track of a toddler. In a large estate like this it would only take one mistake for the kid to topple down a flight of stairs and crack his head open. In her defense, Cale was a crafty brat, but all the same it was her responsibility to keep the kid safe.

Roksu shouldn’t have to play babysitter on top of everything else he was currently juggling.

He left Cale in the nanny’s questionably capable care and frowned to himself.

On top of it all, why could he still feel the caress of Ron’s touch?

Chapter Text

Ah, that simply wouldn’t do.

Roksu was talking to one of the guards again. Most people working at the estate had taken a shine to the man, he was a hard man not to like. He was hardworking, responsible, conscientious, capable, and deceptively kind. Despite stoic expressions and assurances that he was indeed a selfish man, there was hardly a soul in the mansion who didn’t feel a sense of gratitude towards Roksu for some small kindness that he’d given as easy as breath.

In only a year Roksu had become a fixture in the household that people would really miss if he were to disappear mysteriously. Not that Ron was currently still plotting to murder him but he liked to keep the option available.

His little rat was indeed a bit dangerous after all. All the adorable schemes he got up to that he thought Ron hadn’t noticed. All of his little errands he would run in order to make the world a slightly better place through lying, scamming, manipulation, and sometimes looting. 

Kim Roksu was indeed a unique pet and Ron wasn’t sure he’d ever grow tired of watching him struggle. It was entertaining and quite cute.

What wasn’t cute was watching Roksu speak so long with a lowly guard that Ron knew was quite fond of Roksu. While it was difficult to find a person who didn’t hold him in some regard, Ron had his eye on this particular guard as a man who liked Roksu just a bit more than the rest.

Ron couldn’t quite put his finger on why the sight bothered him so much though. It was true that it wasn’t entertaining and he was used to finding nothing but entertainment from observing Kim Roksu but that wasn’t quite the reason.

There was this unspeakable annoyance that kept crawling through his veins every time that the guard gave Roksu a friendly pat on the back or when Roksu smiled weakly in return.

Ah, it really just wouldn’t do.

Ron inserted himself neatly between the pair, shooting a kindly old smile towards the guard. “I’m terribly sorry, but I need to have a word with Roksu.” There was a dangerous gleam to his eyes as he dared the guard to challenge his claim. “Would you mind giving us some privacy?”

The guard excused himself jovially, apparently not at all distraught by the sudden interference into his conversation, and Ron turned his gaze onto Roksu.

Ah.

He really did have such sharp eyes.

Ron noticed how Roksu’s eyes always watched everyone and everything with an almost lazy impartiality but a certain sharpness that always saw too much.

His little rat would certainly get himself into trouble someday like that.

Ron was caught by that gaze, stoic curiosity on his handsome face. It momentarily caused Ron to forget the excuse he’d cooked up in order to steal Roksu from his annoying conversation.

“Thanks.”

Ron was caught entirely off guard by the gratitude but masterfully hid it behind a benign smile.

“I really didn’t know how to get out of that conversation. I appreciate the assistance.”

Ron’s heart did something funny in his chest. The cute little rat in the palm of his hand had noticed his true intentions without even hearing his lie. How much more had Roksu perceived? How much more did he know about Ron?

When was the last time that anyone had noticed the intentions he hid behind a smile?

Roksu hadn’t just noticed but he was grateful. He hadn’t wanted to talk to that annoying guard either.

Ron’s heart did that funny thing again and he felt his benign smile begin to slip. “I merely acted as I should.” Ron said coolly, wanting to place some distance between himself and the dangerously perceptive man.

Roksu shrugged as though it really didn’t make any difference at all to him and Ron wanted to scare him. Not for his normal motivations, the simple desire to make the mouse squeak, but to somehow prove to himself that this tiny pet rat didn’t mean anything to him at all.

Of course, then Ron had to explain to himself why he needed to prove anything at all. Men who truly were unaffected didn’t need such proof. Their behavior alone was enough evidence.

What had Ron’s behavior been up until now?

His gloved hand brushed up against the scar visible on Roksu’s neck, almost out of habit.

How long had it been since the rat stopped flinching at his touch?

At least Roksu still shivered and looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else but strangely that didn’t offer Ron the comfort he desired.

He pulled his hand away and smiled at Roksu. “You ought to busy yourself quickly before I find something to busy you with.”

That did the trick. Roksu straightened out and scurried off towards the manor. Surely headed to do more work than anyone else even pretended to do within its confines.

Somehow the victory was shallow though.

That hadn’t been what Ron wanted. Not truly. Not the itch he wanted to scratch when saw that insolent man daring to touch his pet rat.

But what was it that he wanted?

It was quite a puzzle. He was growing far too attached to his little pet for his own good and yet Ron couldn’t bring himself to consider stopping. There really was this strange charisma to Kim Roksu that Ron found himself just as bound to as the rest of the staff.

What an interesting rat he was that he managed to ensnare even Ron with his strange little seduction.

Ron left the scene with a strange itch haunting him and the faint desire to find his errant pet again, just to see how he was fairing.

A twisted smile overtook Ron’s otherwise kindly face.

Yes. That would do nicely. He’d find his little rat and see how much teasing the poor creature could take. Ron’s heart simply wouldn’t be satisfied otherwise.

Perhaps today he’d see what sort of thing caused Roksu to smile. That would be quite entertaining. Roksu wore that stoic expression like a shield to protect him from the rest of the world. Ron simply wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d seen what was hidden behind that ridiculous defensive measure.

And if Ron were to be scrupulously honest, he might have admitted that it had been six years since the last time his heart was so fixated on another living person.

Chapter Text

Vicross Molran was a complicated kid.

He had a rather insane future ahead of him, full of torture and fighting, but even at the current moment Vicross was complicated just the way he was.

He was a child who was talented in the grotesque but fascinated by the wholesome.

Roksu would have to have been blind not to notice how much Vicross enjoyed cooking. It did something to answer the question as to why a torture expert with a proficiency with a broad sword worked in the Henituse kitchens rather than anywhere better suited for his talents.

Vicross also struggled to express himself honestly. His face was honest enough, scrunching up in disgust when the neat freak spotted even a speck of dust, but he had a tendency to keep his thoughts to himself. Especially when he was upset.

Like right now. Roksu sat silently beside the boy on the back porch just outside the second kitchen. Vicross had spent a hard day assisting the chef and diligently listening to everything he was told. For a sixteen year old child he was certainly quite disciplined.

He was also quiet in that peculiar way he got when his thoughts grew grim.

Roksu didn't have any real place in the child's life, he knew well enough that he was just a suspicious servant who worked with Vicross's father, the dishonest boy probably only sought out his company so much as a means of meeting with his dad. Even so, Roksu wouldn't be able to sleep comfortably tonight if he didn't keep the poor kid company.

He wasn't doing this because he felt any obligation or fondness for Vicross. It was only to support his own selfish desire to sleep comfortably knowing that Vicross had been properly cared for. What sort of monster could sleep knowing that a child was struggling? Roksu might have been a slacking bastard but he wasn't that vicious.

Vicross stared down at his feet for a long time before uncharacteristically breaking the silence.

"...what is your mother like?"

Roksu, quick on the uptake, thought of the makeshift memorial he’d witnessed Ron and Vicross take part in.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have anything useful to offer.

“I don’t remember my mom.” Roksu said truthfully. He really didn’t want to learn about this child’s tragic backstory or involve himself any deeper into the matters of the Molran’s more than he already was.

“...oh…” Vicross’s voice was low as he spoke and Roksu stifled a sigh, hoping that was the end of this tense conversation. “My mom…” Dammit . “...she was really amazing. I wanted to be just like her.”

Funny, most little boys idolize their fathers and adore their mothers. Or at least, that was what the media had generally led Roksu to believe. He couldn’t speak from any personal experience. He couldn’t help but wonder what sort of person would become the object of a future torture specialists idolization.

Roksu mentally shuddered at the vision of the vicious woman in his imagination. She must have been quite formidable indeed to have been Ron’s partner.

The thought of Ron’s partner brought a funny feeling to his stomach but he shook off the feeling. There was no particular reason he ought to care about what sort of person Ron used to have a relationship with and definitely no reason he ought to mentally compare himself to that person.

Roksu refocused his attention on the boy in front of him, listening intently to the story about a woman he very much didn’t want to know about in order to validate a child whom he wanted absolutely nothing to do with.

“My mother used a broadsword.”

It occurred to Roksu that it felt a bit off somehow that the thirty year old torture expert was described so viciously without a single word dedicated to depicting the child who lost his mother at the tender age of ten and was forced to start his life anew and live in hiding. True, Roksu had only consumed the first five novels and therefore had no idea if the author had the intention of dedicating more time and effort towards the Molran’s in the future but as it was, the depiction of Vicross on page felt… unjust.

Vicross wasn’t just a cruel and calculating person who was entranced by the protagonist's strength and engaged in vicious missions alongside him. He was a kid who loved cooking and missed his mother. A boy who made just about any excuse, including hanging out with the weird new servant, to spend more time with his father.

A kid who grumbled up and down about how annoying the young master was but still dutifully wiped dirt from Cale’s face and looked after the arrogant child with the patience of a saint. Vicross could be gentle and kind and even a bit of a mother hen.

It wasn’t that Roksu had an issue with the narrator of The Birth of a Hero, the details that the guy had provided were proving quite invaluable to Roksu’s future goals of living a slacker, but he had certain reservations about elements of the narrative.

Perhaps he’d just become a bit too biased interacting with the kid. Or maybe it was just a bit annoying to listen to this child pour his heart out about how much he’d adored his deceased mother to some random servant when the narrative didn’t even bother to acknowledge it.

Roksu made a note in his future plans that there ought to be a proper memorial created for Vicross’s mother. He’d have to ask about what sort of things she liked and, ah, he’d have to go reclaim the Molran facility to ensure that they were able to honor her at her home. Roksu stifled a deep sigh.

His to-do list was ever growing. He added a few months onto his long term planning for retirement and the ultimate slacker lifestyle to restore the Molran family. If he just bundled it together with a few of his other plans for the Eastern continent… yes, Roksu smiled to himself, it could work out nicely.

Vicross lapsed into silence once he’d finished and shifted in his spot, looking to Roksu the same way he looked at Roksu when he had tried out a new recipe and he was nervous about how it might taste.

Roksu rested a hand on Vicross’s head and patted it gently. “She sounds like she was an amazing woman.” Also quite vicious, as one might anticipate from Ron’s wife and Vicross’s mother. “You would definitely make her proud.”

He could say that for the Vicross depicted in the novel. He was everything such a vicious woman might be proud of.

Vicross’s smile was like the sun rising to light up the night sky with colors.

Roksu thought that the narrative ought to have spared at least one sentence to express how precious Vicross looked when he smiled.

Chapter Text

Choi Han was a complicated matter that required quite a bit of preparation.

Roksu didn’t intend to let the protagonist spend all his time trapped in the Dark Forest without any hopes of freedom and slowly giving into despair. It was true that Choi Han’s training in the forest was vital to his terrifying abilities later in the novels but Roksu was never one to believe that the ends justified the means.

There were just a few problems.

He did not have the strength necessary to find Choi Han in those deadly woods. Choi Han, fresh from the forest, was liable to be more deadly than ever. And most importantly, any involvement with the protagonist risked getting overly involved in the plot of the novel.

However, when he considered that the plot of the novel involved the child currently clinging to his leg getting beaten half to death, he didn’t have quite as much hesitation about getting involved.

Roksu decided to keep his plan simple.

He’d help Choi Han out of the forest and introduce him to Harris Village early. When it came time for the massacre of Harris Village, forewarning about the tragedy to come should be sufficient to avoid it.

Choi Han would probably want to stop the secret organization merely because they tried to kill the people he cared about anyway.

It was a really simple plan that ought to have been quite easy to achieve.

Roksu really needed to start calculating all of his plans to include the trifling involvement of Ron Molran.

“This is quite an amusing game you’re playing right now, rat.” Ron commented mildly, ever pleasant continence unaffected by the current circumstances. The only sign that he was agitated was the way he began to calmly and casually clean a rather sharp looking dagger.

Roksu tried not to let it get to him and kept his focus on the forest beyond.

The smoke signal he’d created towered high above the treeline and attracted just about everything within a two mile radius to close in on the pair of them. It was a smart choice to move a distance from Harris Village before he attempted this but Roksu still felt uneasy being any significant distance from an escape.

He consoled himself with knowledge that he could take Ron and run away with Instant if things got really dire.

For the time being though, the monsters were entertaining themselves by pounding at the shield that Roksu had acquired for this very task. The large silver wings encompassed them protectively while the monsters puzzled about how they could get to the snacks hidden inside.

Roksu didn’t like knowing that he was a snack to these things.

He watched the treeline, waiting to see if Choi Han would approach. It was probably too much to hope that Choi Han would appear on the first day. But he was sure to rush towards signs of humanity if he spotted them and Roksu was good at being patient.

“Who exactly are you signaling for?” Ron’s voice did quite a good job at concealing the edge to his tone but Roksu knew him too well by now to miss it.

He swallowed, sweat trickling down his neck. He never knew quite what to expect from Ron but he could tell that their current circumstances were making him become progressively more irate.

“You didn’t have to come.” Roksu said, averting his gaze and hoping that would be the end of it.

“Oh ho?” Damn. There was definitely an edge to that. Roksu suppressed a shudder. He could just imagine all the dreadful things that Ron probably wanted to do with that terrifying dagger. Why was he so vicious? “And leave my little pet rat to get eaten up? That simply won’t do.”

Roksu really had to wonder when he’d become Ron’s ‘pet’. Then again, it was probably better to be his pet than his enemy so Roksu didn’t argue with the claim.

He decidedly ignored the strange patter of his heartbeat whenever Ron used my . He really wasn’t sure why he was so affected by the word these days but he figured it was just an extension of his fear.

Ron was quite terrifying after all.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Ron said, airy and open.

“...there’s someone in the forest.” Roksu said. He wasn’t sure how much he should tell Ron about Choi Han before they met.

Huh. Maybe meeting early would mean that Ron would leave the Henituse territory early.

The thought made Roksu’s chest pinch uncomfortably. He ignored it.

Ron raised a delicate eyebrow pointedly. “And you presume that they’re still alive.”

“I know they are.” If Choi Han was so easy to kill, he wouldn’t be half as terrifying as he was in the novels.

He probably wouldn’t have fascinated Ron so quickly.

Roksu felt another painful pinch.

The idea of Ron directing all of his attention towards Choi Han was strangely uncomfortable. Roksu scowled, not quite able to comprehend why. It didn’t make any sense. He didn’t want to deal with the terrifying assassin any longer than he already had to after all. Why should he care if Ron found someone more entertaining to pay attention to?

Again. It hurt more this time.

A gloved hand touched his cheek and startled Roksu. He looked at Ron and found the man frowning thoughtfully as he looked at Roksu. The expression was so different from his normal benign composure that it startled Roksu more than the touch had.

“You’re upset.” Ron pointed out and Roksu swallowed.

It was strange but he found himself feeling hyper aware of the distance between them. Had it always been so cramped in the space provided by his shield? Why did it suddenly feel as though they were alone when there were still monsters banging incessantly?

Why couldn’t he bring himself to look away from Ron’s curious brown eyes?

An unusual noise from the forest dragged Roksu out of his revere and he turned to see a figure clad in ruins of black clothes walk cautiously into the clearing they’d set up camp.

Lucky.

They’d been lucky to find Choi Han on the first day.

Why didn’t Roksu feel lucky though?

He didn’t look at Ron as he went about approaching the lost soul who had been trapped in the forest for decades.

He couldn’t look at Ron.

He didn’t want to see the moment when Ron’s attention switched to someone new.

He didn’t want to know.

He didn’t want to admit that he would lose him. Or more aptly, that he didn’t want to lose him.

Chapter Text

His little pet rat had always been a suspicious person.

From the first moment of his appearance in the cellars up until present day, Roksu had proven to be a ceaselessly mysterious person with obtuse goals.

He was always doing something suspicious or questionable. Usually with some attempt to keep his activities concealed from Ron’s watchful eye.

It was amusing, at times, especially because from what Ron could tell, the rat was arranging for something quite spectacular. He even brought home an annoying pup from the Dark Forest and immediately started to utilize the swordmasters skills by sending him out on missions.

And then amusing as anything, the rat would slink home as though he hadn’t just set a trap for quite atrocious sounding bastards.

Roksu was patient and meticulous, his every action reflecting cunning confidence while at the same time, he was likely to shrink away with fear at the first sign of an intimidation tactic. Or really anyone who was remotely strong.

A curious person because as far as Ron could tell from his figure and the scars he attempted to hide, Roksu had already seen plenty of fights.

Although perhaps it was because he’d seen one too many battles that he became so timid.

However, Ron was beginning to reach the limit of his patience.

“Would you care to explain now?”

Roksu, pinned against a wall with a dagger to his throat, had the same stoic expression as ever. But Ron was quite proficient at reading the true emotions behind the expression.

Roksu was scared and was calculating how best to escape with all of his limbs intact. It was a bit amazing how his brain never stopped working even when he was faced with a situation that pressed him up against true terror.

Ron didn’t have time to be impressed by the man though. The entertainment value the rat offered him and the current situation were two separate matters.

“...I don’t know much.” Roksu said finally, watching Ron’s wrist with apprehensive fear.

“What do you know then?” Ron hissed, his temper flaring up. His benign smile disappeared to be replaced with an icy cold stare.

He normally wouldn’t get so fired up over anything. But the real possibility that Roksu had been a danger to his son and himself this entire time was too galling to tolerate.

If Ron were more prone to self reflection, he would have noticed that he was also feeling betrayed.

“There’s a secret organization.” Roksu’s voice didn’t shake despite how his pupils did. “They have plans that could cover the continent in war. I know some of those plans. I intend to stop them.”

Ron searched his eyes for a sign of deception. It would make sense with what he’d seen but all the same, Roksu could have very well brought that damned organization right to the Henituse territory with his foolish intentions.

The memory of everything that organization had stolen from him was far too fresh to let go of.

The fire.

Her unmoving body.

His sons fear and grief.

The rage that built inside of him with the desire to cut the throats of every bastard responsible was only suppressed by his determination to keep his son safe.

He couldn’t lose anything more.

And this stupid little rat thought that he could take them all on with a few petty tricks and a bit of information?

Foolish.

Stupid.

Ron pulled the dagger away from his throat, his expression a blank canvas that hid everything.

The stench of those bastards was still strong on Roksu’s body. It was disgusting. Ron would need to dispose of the bodies. Three bastards from the secret organization who dared to attack his little rat and invade his refuge. He had nothing but hatred for them.

He had nothing at all.

Roksu’s hand touched his cheek and Ron flinched away, surprised by the touch. “What do you think you’re doing?”

One look at Roksu’s face let him know that he hadn’t meant to do it either. He looked surprised at his own hand as though it had gained a life of its own.

“If you fight them, everyone here will die.” Ron’s voice was grim. Knowing. Full of the hopelessness that comes with experience.

“I won’t let that happen.”

Ron turned to glare at him, annoyed with how confident the damn rat dared to sound. It occurred faintly to Ron that he felt shaky, off balance, his normal composure had been rocked and now he was having trouble finding his footing.

He saw a look of confident determination on his foolish little rat's face.

It was a strangely reassuring expression. An expression that reminded Ron of all the neat little tactics Roksu had employed already and every nonsensical success he’d managed despite all of the odds against him.

“...why do you want to stop them?” Ron’s voice was still cold. Empty of even an attempt to hide his contempt.

Roksu’s face scrunched into a confused expression that looked for all the world like why would you ask me something so obvious? And Ron found himself dreading hearing an answer about the ‘greater good’ or ‘defeating evil’.

It wasn’t that he didn’t understand those moralistic motivations, it just didn’t do anything to actually defeat ‘evil’ and promote ‘good’. Usually just a high minded and shallow morality that was naive at best and fatal at worst.

“So I can live a slacker life.”

It took Ron a moment to properly digest his words and when he did, his lips cracked into a terrifying smile that caused Roksu to flinch away.

A barking laugh escaped him and he looked back to Roksu with eyes full of intrigued mirth.

Roksu looked like a rat cornered by a cat and Ron had to admit, the sight had a certain appeal to him.

He could still faintly feel the phantom of Roksu’s calloused hand against his cheek.

“I knew you were quite a crazy little rat, but I truly underestimated how mad you truly are.” There was a strangely affectionate hint to Ron’s voice.

Roksu looked rather wronged at the accusation. However, mindful that Ron still had a knife, he decided against arguing.

“Now.” Ron turned to the bloody mess of the foolish invaders. “Let’s clean up this mess.”

Ron couldn’t explain why he felt so light. Not completely. The answer had just been… so very like Roksu. So senseless and insane and endearing.

It almost made him feel like Roksu might just be able to take those bastards down.

Chapter Text

Roksu was sure that he was going just a bit crazy. Well, that wasn’t totally correct, he was relatively certain in his sanity in most all areas.

There was just one specific area where he kept having the most bizarre thoughts that absolutely didn’t make any sense at all.

There were so many reasons that Roksu knew that Ron was a terrifying sociopathic assassin. Everything he’d read about Ron in the novels. The fact that Ron had threatened to kill him on a few occasions now. The fact that Ron had held a knife against his neck only just recently.

The fact that Ron always hid his icy personality behind a benign smile and polite words.

He was undoubtedly a terrifying bastard.

From the tips of his fingertips to the quiet way he could sneak up anyway, Ron was scary and not someone that Roksu should underestimate at any point in time.

So it was largely a mystery to Roksu why whenever he looked at Ron lately, he just couldn’t seem to think of the man as vicious.

In fact, there were even moments when Roksu found himself thinking quite the opposite of Ron.

Even after that horrific time Ron pressed him for information on the secret organization.

Despite how terrifying and cut-throat Ron had been, Roksu couldn’t help but notice the unease beneath his skin.

Ron was scared.

Not obviously so. But the idea of the secret organization finding his current home had shaken him to his core.

There was a moment, just one, where he thought he’d seen Ron break.

It was obvious that Ron had some history with the organization. And it didn’t take a lot to put together that Vicross’ mother was dead.

Why would an assassin be working as a servant for some random noble, out of sight and with seemingly no end goal? They left with Choi Han in the novel without even saying goodbye so there clearly wasn’t something they hoped to achieve there.

He was in hiding.

It wasn’t hard to figure out the rest.

The fear became all the more understandable when Roksu considered that Vicross would have been ten or younger when this happened.

Of course he wouldn’t want the secret organization lurking nearby. Roksu made a note to ensure that they never set foot into the Henituse territory again. His mind was already cooking up various machinations to make it happen.

Except the more that he looked at Ron, the more he saw the cracks he missed before.

And it made it harder and harder to view the man as vicious. Or at least, not just vicious.

The way that Ron patiently attended to young master Cale, who was entering another growth spurt and proudly advertising his new height to anyone that would listen, and the way he looked after his son. The way Ron always worked meticulously and ensured that the entire staff of the household was arranged well, to the benefit of everyone involved.

It was strange.

Before when he watched Ron work, he’d always found his meticulous perfection a bit creepy. Now he couldn’t help but wonder if it was Ron’s way of caring for others.

He really had to be going crazy.

Looking at Ron Molran and seeing a kind man hidden behind the deadly exterior? He must have hit his head somewhere.

He also found himself watching Ron more. He was curious. Just how much of Ron was truly vicious? How much was understandable reactions to the circumstances he’d been placed in? How much was the affectionate man hidden beneath.

Roksu really really didn’t want to know. It sounded like a lot of information that would get him in trouble.

Despite how much he didn’t want to know such troublesome and probably dangerous information, his eyes still chased after Ron and his curiosity burned beneath the surface.

He couldn’t explain it at all.

He also couldn’t explain the Choi Han situation.

Unlike his plans, Choi Han had decided to follow them home and he’d caught Ron watching him on many occasions.

So Roksu sent him away.

Choi Han was useful and strong and he justified it by knowing that he was just making it so that Choi Han didn’t have to deal with certain problems later , he could deal with them now while they were still rather minor and easy to deal with.

It was a good justification.

But he knew it wasn’t the reason that he’d sent Choi Han away.

He hadn’t liked seeing Ron watch Choi Han.

The idea that Ron would choose to leave with him continued to bother him in a way that he couldn’t quite describe.

He knew that it would be better if Ron left with Choi Han. They would make a deadly pair and Roksu would be able to breathe easily, without fear of a sudden and quick death.

It was better if Ron left. Logically.

And yet, he still really hated the idea.

“Letting your mind drift at work?”

The low voice of the assassin still sent shivers down Roksu’s spine. Especially when he appeared out of nowhere like that.

Yet, he couldn’t help but think that he saw something like concern flicker in Ron’s eyes.

He was going crazy.

He felt strangely warm around the ears. Ron always had a way of invading far too close into his personal space. It was like how Cale had absolutely no regard for boundaries but instead of being an adorable bouncing child, Ron was… Ron.

Roksu chose his words carefully. Or, he tried to, but a strange question burst out of him. “Are you worried about me?”

It was almost worth it to see the shock in Ron’s expression. Roksu rarely saw him lose his composure. The moment of weakness was almost… cute? He was definitely going insane.

Ron regained his footing quickly and smiled grimly at Roksu. “Should I be worried, my little rat?”

Roksu felt the warmth extend to his cheeks and looked away first. “There’s nothing you should worry about, sir.” He said stiffly, wondering why his pulse was racing.

He wasn’t scared. Despite all the reasons that he should be scared of Ron, he just wasn’t scared.

Ron was vicious and dangerous, but there was more to him and the more Roksu noticed, the less he felt scared.

So what possible reason could there be for his heart to react like this?

Chapter Text

Cale really was getting bigger.

Roksu sometimes had to marvel at how time flowed while he worked at the Henituse estate. Most days were peaceful, despite the assassin haunting his steps, and oftentimes there would be months between any truly memorable incident.

A part of him felt that maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to just keep working here after he’d succeeded in his various goals. The pay was good, the work wasn’t that difficult, and he wanted to keep Cale and Vicross out of trouble.

Speaking of Vicross, he was certainly starting to look more and more like the adult he would become. Strangely, despite knowing how terrifying and vicious a torturer he would be, Roksu really couldn’t help but see him as a kid.

When Cale’s fifth birthday rolled around, Roksu had to wonder how he’d actually been here for two whole years now. It wasn’t that time had gone by quickly, it had just gone by peacefully.

It made him all the more determined to make sure that damn war didn’t happen. Choi Han was proving to be an invaluable asset in those goals, the dependable protagonist that he was, and he was a lot more cheerful than in the beginning of the novel. Though, that was probably due to the fact that he hadn’t experienced the Harris Village massacre.

It was still a wonder how he retained so much innocence after spending years in that wretched forest. Roksu made a mental note to figure out how Choi Han wanted to retire and make it happen.

He was still avoiding answering Choi Han about why they were the only two Korean people in this strange world though. He’d have to come up with a good answer someday. The honest truth was that he really didn’t know precisely why but the even more honest truth was it probably had something to do with Roksu reading those books.

He didn’t quite want to deal with the complications that came with your life is a novel right now. Or really ever.

And then there was Ron.

Roksu didn’t know what to make of Ron.

He wasn’t as scared of him these days but the atmosphere between them was strange.

He really couldn’t put his finger on exactly what made it so tense. Yet it wasn’t unpleasant.

It was something else.

Like today for example. They were accompanying the young master to a playdate in the Wheelsman territory and while Cale was happily chattering about his plans to impress his playmates upon arrival, Ron was seated close to Roksu.

Very close to Roksu.

He could feel the warmth from Ron’s body and he couldn’t help but be conscious of it.

He had to fight down the impulse to lean in closer. He wondered if he was just touch starved, although that was unlikely considering how often the young master still deemed it hilarious fun to climb him like a tree.

Sometimes he wondered if he was nothing more than a jungle gym to the young master. Considering Cale’s personality, it wasn’t impossible.

Of course, he didn’t have time to ponder that very much. Every time there was the slightest bump in the road, Ron’s body would touch his and it made that strange tension increase exponentially.

Cale frowned at the pair of them, apparently noticing that they didn’t seem terribly attentive to his speech. “You’re ignoring me.” He crossed his arms with a visible pout and Roksu had to suppress a little laugh.

Days like this, he could see how Cale might become a lout one day. Still, he couldn’t quite fault him for that. The idea of a reckless teenage Cale only worried him because he didn’t want the boy getting injured, not because he found his future behavior despicable.

They say that familiarity breeds affection. He was just a bit weak to the child’s antics.

He found it particularly horrifying when one day Cale had rushed up to Choi Han and kicked him in the shin before running back to hide behind Roksu. He stuck his tongue out at the swordmaster too.

Luckily, Choi Han wasn’t the type to beat up a child. Although, Roksu had some reservations about Choi Han beating up the eighteen year old Cale. Considering Choi Han’s true age rather than his appearance, it didn’t seem that different to beating up a child.

Of course, Roksu felt that he might be a bit biased.

“I’m not ignoring you.” He reassured. “You were talking about how you were going to show young master Eric Wheelsman how great you are by showing off your skills with a sword.”

Cale’s skills were not worth bragging about. Although they were probably good for his age, especially since Vicross couldn’t help but give him instruction when he spotted the brat trying something, but he was still just a five year old swinging around a stick.

Cale perked up a bit at the reassurance and returned to his excited monologue.

Roksu felt the slightest stab of guilt over how excited Cale was.

Roksu had, in fact, been the person to arrange this whole playdate, and while it would be nice to say his purpose was to put that bright smile on Cale’s face, he wasn’t that good a person.

He needed to make certain connections and using Cale’s status as the heir to the Henituse family was the perfect tool to do so.

Of course it was a good thing if Cale enjoyed himself and he certainly looked excited to meet new friends closer to his age. His closest peer currently was Vicross who was already seventeen years old.

They really made a funny pair, they still squabbled all the time but they also would seek each other out. They acted like siblings in Roksu’s opinion although he didn’t have a lot of experience to judge that.

He leaned back in his seat and there was another bump in the road, Ron’s warmth grazing against him again before it departed.

He really was going absolutely crazy.

He found himself longing for the next bump in the road.

Chapter Text

Ron was sure that Roksu was behind this. It was certainly all too neat and the Wheelsman’s didn’t have enough influence to arrange this whole affair on their own.

Inviting the local nobility for a little playdate was quite easy to achieve so the Ubarr heir and the Chetter heir were to be expected.

But most of the influential heirs in the kingdom were in attendance, including the first prince who was conversing with the elder son of Marquis Sten.

The wide range of children in attendance simply didn’t make sense without Roksu’s hand in the affair. He felt a tingle of playful curiosity to find out just what Roksu had planned by bringing together all of these children.

By now, he knew Roksu well enough to know that he couldn’t possibly mean the children any harm, but there were plenty of ways to gain or trade influence without causing harm. It was a diabolical angle that required a morally bankrupt mind to conceive of.

That was why Roksu was so ceaselessly amusing. Despite all the things he did that were arguably to the greater good, he had a malicious manipulative streak that had no peer.

What an amusing delight he was. Twisted yet kind.

His gaze drifted down to his young charge who had already impressed upon a young Neo Tolz the skill of his swing. It was sure to break into a fight soon if Ron didn’t intervene. He glanced at Roksu to see if he would go first, he had a tendency to spoil the young master, but Roksu was watching the first prince thoughtfully.

The ten year old boy had also noticed the squabble and was making his way over to them with a peaceable smile on his face.

Ho… Ron watched, interested to see the results.

It proved immediately amusing as Cale, infuriated by something the Tolz boy said, had reared back his arm to aim a punch and quite solidly elbowed the prince in the stomach.

Ron’s lip twitched. Indeed, the little fearless pup had gotten himself into quite a sticky situation. Even more curious, Roksu wasn’t intervening now either.

Confident that Cale could be in no real danger if Roksu was also hanging back, Ron watched the scene unfold.

Cale turned to glare at the punk who had ruined his punch by being inconveniently behind him. He recognized him as the prince, understood his situation, and decided quite quickly that he didn’t care.

“You–” He started but Neo interrupted him.

“Your highness!” Neo said. “This barbaric child attacked me and now you! You must punish him.”

Cale lip curled into a snarl. He’d take on both of them if that was what it took.

That Tolz bastard had called his family worthless. Cale wasn’t about to endure that sort of insult without getting even.

Especially when he insulted Cale’s mother. There was no forgiveness for that.

Alver Crossman rubbed the spot Cale hit with the slightest wince before he sent a smile towards Cale. “You have quite a punch.”

The complement set Cale off balance further. What the hell was he up to? Still, a tiny bit of pride filled his chest at the acknowledgement of his strength.

This whole debacle had started because Neo mocked his skills as a swordsman.

Cale folded his arms over his chest and glared at Alver imperiously. “I’m not sorry.” He heard Neo let out an indignant cry and turned back to him. “Do you want another punch?” Cale asked, despite being interrupted before delivering the first one.

He was ready to do it too. He could see Eric rushing over with a panicked expression and the whole room descending into chaos but he really didn’t care at the moment.

Neo needed to learn his lesson.

“Excuse me.” Cale blinked, wiggling his legs as he left the ground, he turned and looked at the prince who had picked him up and was moving him away from Neo with deft grace. Cale let out a squawk of indignation but Alver’s next words cut him off. He was looking at Neo. “He only hit me by accident and he never touched you. Why did you lie?”

He asked it as though it was a friendly question but the implied accusation even got through Neo’s thick head.

“He tried to! That’s just as bad as doing it!”

“So was insulting the count and countess just as bad as causing them harm?”

Silence descended and Cale stopped his struggles. He hadn’t thought anyone had heard and he hadn’t intended to tattle either. He could deal with his own problems himself.

Moreover, he hadn’t thought anyone would care if he told them anyway.

Neo shook his head, clearly rethinking his place in the situation.

Alver smiled at him brightly. “Let’s leave it at that then. You both made mistakes but no one was hurt so it’s better to make peace.”

Cale would rather bite his own tongue then make peace with that disgusting weasel but he recognized that this wasn’t a situation he could win.

Later, however, he might find an opportunity to whack Neo.

Without waiting for the pouting children to respond, Alver carried and then guided Cale away from the troubling situation and back towards his company with Taylor Sten.

Alver looked down at Cale and smiled worriedly. “Are you alright?”

“I didn’t need your help.”

Alver’s smile twitched. “I’m sure you didn’t but I hope you’ll accept my apologies for offering it all the same.”

Cale frowned.

He might be young but he understood the hierarchy. There was no reason that the first prince would need to talk to him so politely or apologize to him for anything. If anything, Cale was the one who would normally have been made to grovel for daring to cause physical harm to royalty.

Cale had been willing to accept that punishment if it meant getting back at that bastard.

A shadow loomed over the trio and Cale looked up, his expression momentarily brightening before he saw the frown on Roksu’s face.

Ah.

Roksu really didn’t like it when he started trouble or picked fights.

Cale looked down at his feet shamefully. None of the other things had made him feel bad about his actions but Roksu’s disapproval made him regret the whole thing.

Roksu kneeled in front of him and patted his head. “Are you okay?”

Cale nodded, shuffling under his gaze.

“Do you know what you did wrong?”

Cale thought it over carefully. Roksu had always taught him that there were better ways to get back at those who upset you. Rather than punching them in the face, it was better to get them in the back of the head later.

And it was always better to run away from a disadvantageous situation and come back later when you’ve recollected your strength.

Cale nodded again.

Roksu smiled. “Good. Would you introduce me to your new friends?”

Cale felt a bit complicated calling them his friends, he didn’t know them and his impression of the prince was iffy, but it would probably be better to make friends than disappoint Roksu further.

“This is Taylor Sten.” Cale said, giving Taylor a good once over. “He’s the eldest son of the Marquis Sten.”

Roksu nodded and smiled politely at Taylor.

“And this is his highness Alver Crossman, the first prince of the Rowoon Kingdom.”

Cale felt pretty proud of remembering their names and relations. He hadn’t been personally introduced to them but he’d heard them introduce themselves.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Roksu said amiably and the smile was a bit off from Roksu’s normal smile. It caught Cale off guard. Roksu did smile, but rarely and only when he was happy.

This smile seemed too friendly. Cale didn’t make a comment though and instead went about attempting to befriend the two older boys.

Ron watched from the background carefully and calmly. He saw Roksu play with Cale nearly daily but this was the first time he’d ever seen the man wear a fake smile.

It was a strangely exciting sight.

Roksu was a cunning bastard and he could convincingly lie.

But that also meant that everything until now had been sincere.

Ron felt an odd rhythm to his heartbeat. A tempo just a bit quicker than it should be in this peaceful situation.

Cute. His little pet rat was cute and manipulative and when he smiled at Ron, he meant it.

If Ron could understand the strange warmth growing in his chest, that would improve matters greatly.

Chapter Text

Perhaps he had just gotten too attached.

Ron reflected that he hadn’t maintained the apathy towards the Henituse household that he had hoped for. He definitely hadn’t maintained apathy towards Roksu.

Whatever it was, the man was in his thoughts and quite thoroughly overtaking his focus.

In order to show that he could in fact ignore Roksu, Ron did so. He managed to ignore Roksu for an entire week.

That is until Roksu showed up at the servants door, bloody and beaten.

Ron’s fingers itched for a dagger.

He’d seen Roksu leave. Trying to sneak away unnoticed, as he normally did before engaging in something highly suspicious, but he’d held himself back from going with. He wanted to ignore Roksu. He wanted to prove that he could.

What a pointless thing to prove.

Roksu nearly collapsed into his arms with irregular breathing. Ron quickly noticed a fever and he felt his irritation mount.

He accepted it.

He’d gotten too attached.

But he didn’t forgive those that caused harm to what was his .

Roksu woke up in his bunk. The familiar black egg sitting near his bed and covered in discarded clothes. His injuries had been treated and his fever was receding.

He shouldn’t have overused Record like that. He hadn’t really had a choice but it was dangerous to do that alone.

He looked towards the bedside table and spotted a glass of water. Upon gingerly sitting up, he saw the note. He immediately recognized Ron’s neat script.

[I’ve gone rabbit hunting.]

Now what the hell was that supposed to mean?

Roksu hated the way the single sentence made his stomach drop.

–

Ron hugged the shadows, keen eyes watching the clueless punks that passed by. Listening carefully to their conversations and moving with darkness further inside.

Ron hadn’t done anything like this in quite some time. He’d done a few little field trips with Roksu but that hardly counted as this .

He needed information, first and foremost. There was still far too much that he didn’t know. For example, where the bastards were gathering their forces and what the hell they intended to do.

It came as a bit of a personal offense that they were here.

Ron had abandoned the Eastern continent entirely in order to avoid them and here they were again, shameless as ever and disgustingly arrogant.

They were growing more cautious though.

Roksu had spooked them. They still didn’t know who he was or where he was from, but Roksu’s various movements was creating a certain amount of disarray among the ranks.

Ron’s heart clenched at the thought of Roksu.

He was so foolish. If he was going out to do something dangerous, he ought to have asked Ron to go with him. Why did he always attempt to do everything on his own? Ron couldn’t think of a single time that Roksu had actually asked for help. He always did his best to do it alone and would reluctantly accept Ron’s help when it was forced upon him.

Luckily his injuries had looked worse than they were. The fever was the truly concerning part but Ron had left careful instructions with the other servants to check in on him.

It was a blow to his pride, to care this much. It wasn’t that he hated caring for others but he’d already lost so many people that he cared about that the idea of caring about someone new left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Unfortunately, Roksu had wormed his way into Ron’s heart entirely without asking for permission. That was just like his sneaky rat. Moving his way inside without anyone knowing how he’d gotten there at all.

And that rat had been scurrying about to put a stop to the secret organization. Foiling them from the shadows and throwing various wrenches into their plans. All the while, Ron stayed hidden from sight and clung to his self-imposed retirement.

It felt long overdo to show these bastards what he did to people who incurred his wrath.

He’d chosen his son when they first crossed paths. He’d seen that he was outmatched and known that butting heads with them again could result in danger to Vicross.

But if they were sneaking their way here, there wouldn’t be many more places to run.

And Roksu would probably get himself killed trying to stop them.

Ron frowned as he slunk to a new shadow, listening attentively to the conversation between the bastards at the docks. He’d intended to do just a bit of rabbit hunting but from the sound of it, he might be able to do much more than kill a few rabbits.

His fingers grazed against his dagger and he got comfort from that.

When he closed his eyes he could still see Roksu bloody and feverish, too helpless to even make it to his own bed.

He didn’t like it.

Roksu carried all of that weight alone. Bleeding and getting injured and protecting people who didn’t even know he existed.

He wanted Roksu to be happy. Peaceful. Nearby. Safe.

Ron accepted that he valued Roksu. More than just as an entertaining pet rat. More than a reliable comrade. He wanted to keep that foolish man safe.

In order to do that, he’d have to eliminate as many of these bastards as possible. Perhaps even cut off the head of the snake.

Roksu was talented and intelligent but he lacked Ron’s ruthlessness. His penchant for mercy could very well get him killed one day.

Besides, this battle was personal to Ron.

His fingers itched every time he saw the uniform.

And he couldn’t help but remember her final moments.

Until the very end, she’d been a reliable and strong force that could cut into his heart like no one else. Despite all the amazing memories they had together, the image burned in his memories was her lifeless body.

Ron didn’t hesitate to board the boat when he knew which one to stowaway onto. He kept his ears open and his senses keenly attuned to danger.

There were quite a few strong people on this boat. Some were even stronger than him.

Ron smiled to himself.

That was the great thing about being an assassin. You didn’t actually need to be stronger in order to achieve your goals.

Chapter Text

Ron didn’t come back after a day.

Roksu excused it as Ron being Ron. Rabbit hunting could mean anything coming from the vicious man after all and Roksu quite thoroughly didn’t want to know.

After three days, Roksu excused it as Ron was taking a long awaited vacation. Or maybe he was finally off to travel with Choi Han and Roksu would hear from him the next time that Choi Han checked in.

After a week, Roksu was forced to accept that he didn’t like the situation.

This was Ron after all, it was hard to imagine any circumstances that would threaten him with any significant chance of success. And he was younger than he was in The Birth of a Hero so logically speaking, he would probably be in even better shape than he was in that novel.

Logically speaking, Ron would be fine.

Illogically speaking, Roksu couldn’t help but be worried.

Vicross hadn’t said as much but it was clear that the boy was concerned as well. It made sense, the pair of them had hardly parted in the last seven years and now Ron had left with only a brief explanation.

Roksu made a point of spending more time in the kitchen.

Right now he was watching the children squabble.

“I’m helping.” Cale argued, carrying potatoes over to Vicross while the older boy tsked in disapproval.

“I don’t need your sloppy help in my kitchen. You’re a germ magnet.”

“Are you scared I’ll cough on you?” Cale jeered.

Roksu’s lips twitched as the pair argued.

Despite Vicross’ complaints, he didn’t kick Cale out and actually gave him instructions. Vicross tended to be a bit dishonest at times like these. He was certainly happy to spend time with Cale but he acted tough instead.

It struck Roksu that perhaps he got that from his father.

Ron certainly had a hard and vicious exterior. Well, no, he had a benign and kind exterior. And then a hard and vicious interior. And then at the core of that all was an awkward kindness?

Roksu was getting a headache.

Ron had a way of doing that. He was so needlessly complicated and he always found a way to overtake Roksu’s thoughts even when he wasn’t even here.

“–ask what Roksu thinks!” Cale huffed out, Roksu tried to remember what they had been currently arguing about.

Vicross turned to look at Roksu with a wry expression that spoke volumes to the amount he didn’t actually want to be having this conversation.

“Do you think there’s such a thing as one true love?” Vicross asked dryly but there was that indignant lilt to his voice that meant Vicross hoped he would take his side.

Problem was, Roksu really hadn’t been listening so he had no idea what Vicross’ stance was.

Oh well, honesty never hurt. “What do you mean by ‘one true love’?” He asked.

Cale burst in. “The person you’ll love forever! Obviously!”

Roksu had a lot of people he loved.

Forever felt more like a curse than anything else. With the memories forever burned behind his eyelids, he knew he’d never forget love that was lost.

Never have the distance from grief that forgetting offered.

But he didn’t regret loving them either. Only that he couldn’t save them.

“By that definition, I guess it exists.” Roksu said with a shrug, watching as Cale turned to look at Vicross smugly.

“But only one person?” Vicross stressed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Of course!”

Ah, now Roksu saw the argument.

It was a shame to rob Cale’s victory from him but he also didn’t want the kid growing up to think love was a one time thing.

“There are a lot of people I’ll love forever.” Roksu offered, internally wincing over how sappy the phrase sounded. He’d only wanted to explain it in a way that wouldn’t hurt Cale’s feelings but he felt uncomfortably like he’d said too much.

The pair of them looked at him with twin expressions of surprise. They had apparently recognized how strange it was for Roksu to say something so sappy as well.

It did nothing to help with Roksu’s embarrassment.

Cale was the one to regain his composure first. “You’re married ?! To lots of people?!”

Oh wow, just who had been teaching Cale such strange things?

Vicross turned back to his cooking, clearly amused with the mess Roksu had gotten himself into.

Roksu sighed and crouched down, ready to explain to Cale the difference between romantic and platonic love and the value of platonic love. However Cale had other plans.

He marched up to Roksu and grabbed his sleeve. “I won’t accept it! I want to meet them! They can’t be good enough for you!”

Oh, the things that five year olds said unthinkingly. Roksu nearly laughed. Instead he decided to figure out what the boy was thinking.

“Why do you say that?”

Cale frowned deeply and glanced at Vicross, apparently hoping for support but receiving none. “You just can’t!”

Hm. It didn’t look like Cale was going to share. Oh well. “I’m not married to anyone.”

“But you said…” Cale’s brows knit up with confusion as the incomprehensible concept of love without marriage was proposed to him.

Roksu instinctively looked towards the doorway. Ron normally showed up to laugh at him when he’d thoroughly dug himself into a pit.

The pit in his stomach grew when the servant didn’t appear.

One true love, huh?

He wondered what Ron’s thoughts on it were. He seemed quite cynical in most of his perspectives so it was unlikely that he took a romantic view to it.

Although, it was clear that he had loved his departed wife dearly. He also loved his son.

He would come back safely. Ron wouldn’t leave Vicross alone in the world. The boy was only seventeen, he wasn’t ready to lose his father too.

Ron would come back. He would. Roksu just wished that he believed his own assurances.

It was irrational but he missed him. Missed his mirthful eyes. Missed his passing touches. Missed their conversations. Missed spending time with him.

Even missed when he would laugh at him.

Stifling the uncomfortable feeling bubbling beneath the surface, Roksu went about explaining matters to the confused child.

Chapter Text

It was the day that Roksu decided enough was enough that there was a knock on his bedroom window.

It wasn’t a big window, given he lived in the servants quarters, but it was big enough to see the figure slumped outside.

Roksu cursed openly, he was already moving before his brain had time to catch up with what he’d seen.

Damn .

He’d known that Ron was up to something dangerous.

Damn.

Why hadn’t he gone to find him? Why had he been fool enough to wait at home without a care in the world?

Damn.

Ron was strong but he wasn’t invincible. He was also stupidly adverse to admitting to any weakness.

Damn…!

He’d better be alive. He can’t die. He just can’t.

Roksu was out of breath by the time he reached Ron’s bloody form. He was breathing, barely, but it was a wonder he’d even made it here.

Roksu reached to pick Ron up and the assassin snatched his wrist, glaring at Roksu with unseeing eyes that were clouded with blood and fever.

“It’s me.”

Ron let go of his wrist and slumped down.

Roksu tried not to think about how horrific it felt to watch it happen. Ron’s immaculate persona broken down in this terrible moment. He swallowed bile as he carried Ron inside.

If possible, he didn’t want Vicross to see his father like this.

Morbidly, Roksu knew that might be overly optimistic thinking.

By the time he’d set Ron down on his bed, Ron was drifting back into consciousness.

He looked at Roksu and squinted in confusion before saying a woman's name and falling back into a feverish sleep.

Roksu retrieved his stockpile of potions and set to work, all the while trying not to think too deeply about the bloody and broken man in front of him.

The cool and collected way that he approached each injury reminded him of the past. Two bodies laid out on the ground while he reported an unranked monster's weakness. Pure efficiency in a time of agony.

He didn’t let his thoughts linger on those thoughts either. It would be entirely deconstructive and pointless. He needed to focus or he might be looking at another body in due time.

Most of his injuries were surface level damage. Cuts and bruises and a few broken bones. What worried Roksu was the stab wound in his shoulder. It was deep and still bleeding freely.

Ron looked pale.

There was a possibility that he’d already lost too much blood and all of this was for nothing.

Roksu shut down that thought too.

All that mattered right now was Ron.

That stupid vicious idiot Ron.

Roksu hated this. Seeing a person so close to him like this–

It felt like a short eternity before Roksu had finished patching Ron up. His injuries were serious enough that the potions he had on hand weren’t enough to heal it all but it was enough to stop the more serious symptoms.

He might be fine. If he didn’t lose too much blood.

Roksu sat at the edge of the bed and placed his head in his hands. He had to tell Vicross now. Well, first clean the area so it didn’t look so gruesome and bloody and then get the boy.

He felt shaky and nauseous.

“ Hunting rabbits my ass.” Roksu growled out, feeling a bit resentful of Ron’s casual mischief. If Ron had alluded to something more serious, like whatever had caused his current injuries, Roksu wouldn’t have hesitated to follow after him.

He looked back down to Ron and frowned.

No.

He wasn’t going to let this go.

“Now I’ve got to hunt those damn rabbits.” The sheer menace to Roksu’s tone would have caught anyone who knew him by surprise. “Who the hell did this to you?”

The unconscious assassin said nothing.

Roksu sighed and stood up to get some cleaning supplies.

Ron’s eyes opened after he heard the door click shut.

Strange. His heart was racing. Was that an effect of the poison? He didn’t think so, he was familiar with this poison and the amount he’d been exposed to shouldn’t increase his heart rate.

He hadn’t ever heard Roksu sound so angry. His little rat was so mild and timid most of the time. Cunning and manipulative the other parts of the time.

Roksu certainly had a vicious streak but he rarely showed it.

Ron looked down at his bandaged up body. Most of his clothes had been discarded so Roksu could have easy access to his injuries and the only modesty offered was a blanket.

It struck him as a bit odd, lying mostly naked in Roksu’s bed, for some reason the thought felt a bit thrilling.

He was probably still delirious with fever. Ron closed his eyes and went back to sleep. It was safe to rest in Roksu’s room.

It was safe to rest in Roksu’s care.

Exactly since when had he started to trust his cellar rat so much?

Ron was well and truly asleep by the time Vicross came in. He rushed to his fathers side and the expression on his normally composed face broke Roksu’s heart.

To hear Vicross cry out “Father!” in such a desperate way. He’d told the child what he would see but that hadn’t been enough to prepare Vicross’ heart.

Roksu clenched his fists at his sides, watching the father and son duo with a variety of complicated feelings. The most prominent of all being determination.

This really was unacceptable.

Roksu didn’t tolerate letting someone of his suffer like this. Not without returning the blow tenfold.

He approached Vicross when his shoulders started to shake and placed a hand on one of them. He was still just a child. He still needed his father. Ron couldn’t die, dammit.

Vicross turned around and hugged Roksu. It was startling. Vicross was a germaphobe and quite reluctant to touch anyone at all. To say he wasn’t a hugger would be an understatement.

Roksu wrapped his arms around the boy in hopes of bringing him comfort, the determination growing in his heart at the same rate as his pain.

He promised himself he’d never let Vicross see his father like this again.

He promised himself that he’d never have to see Ron like this again either.

Chapter Text

It could be said that it was an overreaction to blow up an entire island.

‘I really know some seriously vicious people…’

Roksu, quite hypocritically, watched the flames bursting from the nearby island. Without a single acknowledgement that he was, in fact, the one who had arranged for this particular base for the secret organization to be burned with everyone on it.

It also did quite a bit to halt their progress into the Rowoon Kingdom. They had only just finished the base construction for the base and they’d sent over some of their better informed members to inspect the construction.

And then Roksu arranged for the mana bombs to be set off. That combined with Choi Han’s efforts certainly made for quite a sight indeed.

The mid boss was neatly packaged up beside him. Ready to be brought to a nice little dungeon where Roksu could extract just about all the information that he needed from him.

If there were more powerhouses manning the island, it wouldn’t have gone so smoothly, but luckily there were only a few and one of them was right beside Roksu, tied up and bleeding.

From Roksu’s information, he was also the man responsible for Ron’s injuries.

He must be quite formidable to have caused Ron so much pain. It really was a shame that he didn’t have an opportunity to use any of his strength when Roksu caught him.

And without his limbs, he really wouldn’t be able to do very much at all in the future other than gift all the information he had about the secret organization.

All in all, it was quite a productive day. The moon was bright. The fire from the island seared into the sky. And the gentle waves from the ocean made for quite a scenic view.

He’d like to come back here on vacation someday. Maybe he’d show Ron the smoldering remains of that damn island. It certainly was too much to cause it to burn so ferociously, more bombs going off by the minute, but he felt that a vicious man like Ron might just appreciate the sight.

Choi Han certainly was the protagonist though. Roksu had only sent him on a few quests here and there and he already had a crew of reliable allies with devastating strength. Not many familiar faces but considering that most of Choi Han’s companions from the original were toddlers, that only made sense.

A charismatic protagonist was bound to find allies and Roksu quite appreciated that fact.

It meant that he had more options for his strategies.

Roksu took a seat by the shuddering body of his hostage and washed the waves lap up on the sand. The beach. A beach trip would be nice. He could take the kids and Ron and show Cale how to build a sand castle.

Hm. He would have to get approval from the count and countess. Although they hardly had an issue with Roksu taking Cale places. They were loving parents but unsurprisingly, the leadership of a large and wealthy territory required long work hours and little free time.

It could have been worse though. Cale had two doting parents and an entire house full of servants and nannies so the boy was hardly neglected. Still, Roksu sometimes wished his parents would make a bit more time for their child.

There was a groan beside him that sounded suspiciously like a gurgled curse. Without paying it much mind, Roksu ground his thumb against one of his fresh wounds. It caused a yelp before the bastard fainted from the pain.

What a crazy bastard. He still thought it was a good idea to fight back even now? How vicious… Roksu really didn’t know how people could think like that.

The sensible thing was to use your brain, not your ego or instincts.

Ron should be mostly recovered by the time he returned home.

Home.

Hm. He really did think of the Henituse estate as home now. He’d known that for a while but in the firelit night, it really struck him.

Roksu had many homes in his life. So very few of them had that satisfying feeling of home that he’d just felt at the thought of returning.

The glow of the fire made his eyes burn a bit but he didn’t want to close them.

Behind his lids, he could still see Ron’s barely breathing body. How pale he’d been. How weak.

Ron Molran wasn’t a man who succumbed to injuries easily. And yet this bastard beside him had managed to push Ron beyond his limit. Really, so damn foolish.

Roksu rested his chin on his knees. In about twenty minutes he would meet up with the others and they would return by boat and then carriage. The time between then and now felt too long.

He’d missed Ron when the servant had disappeared on his mysterious rabbit hunt.

But at this moment there was a faint aching inside of him. Not just missing a person but hurting at not being able to see them.

Roksu was quite familiar with the feeling.

It was so bizarre to feel that way when Ron was still very much alive and getting healthier. And under Vicross’ careful eye and Cale’s constant nagging, he was unlikely to get into any trouble while Roksu was gone.

But he wanted to see him.

He wanted to see him so badly that it burned hotter than the fire.

He couldn’t explain it.

He’d grown accustomed to Ron’s companionship. Behind his eyes were too many moments thoughtlessly recorded together with him and yet none of them were quite enough, no matter how vivid the memory was.

He needed to see him.

Roksu would have to deal with matters here first though. He didn’t want any loose ends and he had every intention of utilizing this opportunity to make the secret organization regret ever existing to begin with.

When this was over, he’d have a cup of tea with Ron. The mischievous bastard would probably prepare him sour lemon tea but Roksu could prepare some sugar cubes ahead of time.

And then they’d have a conversation that was probably overdo at this point in time.

Chapter Text

Roksu forgot a rather important detail before his triumphant return.

Ron, while perhaps softer than he might sometimes appear, was still quite a vindictive person. And his wrath was not to be easily ignored.

Roksu sat stiffly across from Ron, who sipped his tea with an air of menace.

Roksu’s shaking pupils took in the neatly sliced lemon in front of him. Nothing else. No tea. No snacks. Just lemon slices.

He reflected that he didn’t see Ron sitting down often. He usually was standing to attention or occasionally in combat he would be crouched to strike.

It made the sight of him so poised and docile look extra frightening.

Worst of all, Roksu wasn’t sure exactly what he had done wrong. He’d only just gotten home a few hours ago and he’d largely succeeded in all of his goals. An expert was currently extracting what they needed to know from his hostage and everything should be fine. Outside the territory of course, he knew how much Ron hated those bastards setting foot here.

There was the clink of Ron lowering his cup to its saucer and he sent Roksu a cold smile. “I hear you went on a vacation.”

“I had some days saved up.” Roksu said, wondering if that was the reason for Ron’s ire.

“And you went to that island.”

Well, it wasn’t like Roksu intended to lie about it. “I did.”

“Don’t you think that was a touch reckless?” Ron’s eyes were so sharp that they might as well have cut into Roksu. “Were you prepared to properly defend yourself?”

Roksu gestured to his own body as though to say clearly I was .

There was a chastising hint to Ron’s smile. “That’s not what I meant.”

Sometimes it was really impossible to understand what Ron meant at all. It was all dealt with. What was there to be upset about?

“Do you intend to get yourself killed?”

Roksu blanched. “Of course not.” What the hell made Ron think that? Roksu treasured his own life most of all.

Ron’s expression didn’t so much as twitch but Roksu could still sense disbelief emanating off of him in waves.

What had he ever done to earn a reputation of being reckless? Roksu felt rather wronged.

However, since they were already having an uncomfortable conversation, Roksu might as well make it more uncomfortable.

“I had a question I wanted to ask.”

Ron smoothly took out his dagger and began to clean it. “Yes?”

Roksu suppressed a shudder. Ron was so effortlessly menacing. “It’s about the secret organization.”

Ron stiffened. Roksu almost regretted bringing it up.

But it was a conversation that was long overdue. If he didn’t learn what Ron’s connection to them was, it would be difficult to predict when and why Ron might do something so stupidly reckless again. Roksu already had bits and pieces but it clearly wasn’t enough.

His chest tightened at the idea of Ron disappearing again.

He couldn’t let that happen again.

Silence overtook the room and wrapped its way around throats and lungs, finding the time to seep around the floor and suffocate the air. Ron knew what he was asking. Roksu knew that Ron knew.

But it didn’t make the question any more palatable.

Finally, Ron broke the silence.

“Seven years ago, they took everything from us.”

Roksu regretted it. Ron was speaking levelly and with an air of calm that betrayed none of his feelings.

It was a way of speaking that was too perfect. Too calm.

He shouldn’t have asked. He should have gathered information on his own and not barged his way into Ron’s personal matters. He couldn’t quite understand now why he’d wanted so badly for Ron to tell him rather than find out on his own.

It just didn’t make much sense.

Still, he listened. Silent and patient as Ron explained what he knew about them. What they did to him. What they took from him.

Roksu’s chest ached.

It was important that he listened though. He was the one who asked and it was all invaluable information. Knowing that the secret organization started in the Eastern continent did a lot to help determine his next plans.

It was best to pull a weed up from its roots.

When Ron finished, silence choked the room once more.

Roksu didn’t offer his condolences. He knew from experience they meant little in the wake of such loss. And he knew Ron wouldn’t want them.

From the sound of it, Ron still loved his departed wife dearly. It was a strange aspect to fixate on but Roksu couldn’t help but think about it.

“Where did you get that scar?”

Roksu knew the one he was talking about. He wanted to dodge the question. He didn’t like his ugly scars and he really didn’t like talking about them. But he’d had Ron recount the most painful moments in his life only moments earlier.

He couldn’t turn down the question now.

“It was about thirteen years ago.” Roksu wished he didn’t remember the exact battle he’d gotten this particular scar. But it was burned into his memory forever. “There was… a monster.”

Roksu kept his words as nonspecific as possible. Nothing good would come from admitting to being from another world. And too much specific detail could result in doubt for his story ever happening.

Still, he knew that the specifics weren’t what Ron was asking about.

He wanted to know why, among all of Roksu’s scars, it was the one he detested the most.

It was uncanny how Ron could notice those things but no matter how secretive Roksu was, Ron always seemed to be able to peek into his thoughts and read him. As though he was reporting the incident to the company, he recounted the events. Bland. Lifeless. Stoic.

He didn’t respond to the forever fresh memories that haunted him as he spoke.

He stopped when he felt Ron’s hand touch his own. He blinked, dragged out of the memory and back into the moment.

His mouth felt dry.

His cheeks were wet.

Roksu touched his own cheek, surprised to find a tear. “...why…?”

It was so strange. He wasn’t prone to crying and he’d detailed the events of that day plenty of times before. For reports. For higher ups. For colleagues. It was an event that he’d been forced to talk about so many times before.

Ron’s fingers brushed against his cheek and caught another stray tear.

Ah.

Roksu forgot how to breathe.

That was the difference.

Chapter Text

The trouble with earth shattering realizations is that when you’re an adult with various responsibilities, there is hardly the time to really digest the information in any sort of shocking way. Then by the time you find the time to be shocked by it, you’ve already more or less digested the information without issue.

Roksu had noticed this trait of humanity quite some time ago and so he had begun saving time by skipping straight to the end bit. This had proven to be quite the time saving method of dealing with information that could potentially cause him grief otherwise.

So Roksu did not, as a matter of fact, freak out when the realization finally clicked inside of his intolerably dense skull. He hardly responded at all to it. He might as well have realized some mundane thing like there were more potatoes than expected in a basket.

Pleasant but perhaps troubling under the wrong context and entirely unworthy of shock or awe.

Without a hint of fluster, Roksu was able to conclude his dramatic conversation with Ron, greet the children, and retire to his room for an early night so that he would be well rested for work the following day.

Roksu watched the shadows on his ceiling blankly as he tried to grasp just when this had happened. For how long had he been wrapped up in this feeling? Why had it even bloomed inside of him in the first place?

They weren’t terribly important questions to know the answers to but it did trouble him that he really couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment his feelings changed. It was as though they had just built and built overtime until they finally became too large to ignore.

Despite this, Roksu was legitimately calm and collected about the situation.

While it was a distressing piece of information to have somehow missed for who knows how long and it would complicate some aspects of his job, ultimately those feelings changed nothing at all.

Roksu had no intention whatsoever of pursuing Ron romantically, no matter how in love he’d fallen for him.

For starters, it didn’t really fit in with his plans and he had other things to attend to. And Roksu had never been terribly romantically inclined to begin with. It wasn’t that he didn’t develop feelings for people but he almost never thought to act on those feelings.

It was never the right time or the right person or he just simply couldn’t be bothered.

Then there was the undeniable fact that Ron Molran was a vicious ex-assassin widower who was still very much in love with his dead wife. It was difficult to even consider approaching a man like that even under the best of circumstances.

Despite Roksu’s intentions to sleep early, sleep did not come to him and he couldn’t help but lie still and watch the ceiling while unimportant thoughts flitted here and there.

Of course, there was also the consideration that Ron was not terribly likely to be romantically disposed to same-sex relationships. He had been married to a woman before and Roksu had never caught a hint of him showing interest in any man. It wasn’t impossible, just quite unlikely.

And so, Roksu made the entirely rational decision to keep their relationship the same. There was absolutely no good reason to change anything and plenty of good reasons not to. His heart complained a little bit over the decision but not too much.

His heart was far too used to disappointment to have any strong resistance.

He closed his eyes, determined to rest his body even if wonderful sleep didn’t deem him worthy of a visit.

The matter was settled just like that. No muss, no fuss, nothing complicated, and no trouble on the horizon.

Roksu’s one miscalculation was that the man he’d fallen for was Ron Molran.

A rather fatal miscalculation to make, all things considered.

Roksu tried very hard to control his heartbeat as he went about his early morning duties.

Ron’s gaze was heavier than usual.

Roksu was sure that Ron hadn’t been keeping such a close and constant eye on him since the early days of his arrival. It was a little hurtful, that whatever trust had grown between them had apparently been damaged by Roksu’s latest excursion but it wasn’t worth becoming upset about.

Besides, there was something else deeply upsetting.

Ron’s fingers grazed against his shoulder, deceptively gentle and lingering a second too long. “You miscounted.” He informed, his low voice far too close for comfort.

Roksu swallowed thickly. How exactly had he coped with this all this time? His heart was pounding restlessly and his thoughts circulated solely on ridiculous notions like how do I keep his hands on me?

What the hell. Now that he thought about it, he’d never coped particularly well with Ron’s casual touches and sharp gaze but at the very least, the ignorance had allowed him some protection from further rumination.

Now he was haunted with thoughts that were certainly inappropriate to have about a coworker and colleague and every time he thought he’d managed to vanish those thoughts, Ron would be at his side again, doing something so subtle but deeply troubling for his poor heart.

It was impossible to avoid as well. Ron was simply behaving the way he always had and if Roksu made a fuss about it now, it would seem strange.

He was also having some trouble looking at Ron.

Ron wasn’t, by conventional standards, the most handsome man to walk this planet. He had a certain charm to him and Roksu had, on many occasions, appreciated his good looks. Roksu appreciated the aesthetics of good looking people just as much as the next guy.

He’d particularly thought that Ron could look rather dashing when he locked eyes with a person and closed the distance between them. A few times he’d even thought that it was a tactic that if Ron utilized towards a romantic partner, he was likely to cause a heart to flutter just a bit.

There was a big difference between appreciating a person's appearance aesthetically and finding that person to be dangerously attractive.

Roksu was learning that difference now and it was causing him some intrusive thoughts that he would gladly banish if given the ability to do so.

Of course, Roksu’s memory tended to work in the exact opposite direction.

“What are you thinking about?” Ron’s voice was sharp enough to be scary but Roksu recognized the edge of concern to it.

‘...if I leaned in, I could kiss him.’

“Nothing much.” He lied.

Chapter Text

“Father.”

Ron turned his attention towards his son, an unspoken question in his benign smile. “Hm?”

“You should stop flirting so much if you’re not serious.”

The words caught Ron entirely off guard. He actually had to replay the words in his head a few times to grasp what was even being said and even then, he wasn’t sure at all what the child even meant.

While Ron wasn’t one to admit to his own ignorance easily, this was his son and most of all, he couldn’t understand what the boy was even saying.

“Excuse me?”

Vicross wasn’t the sort to pull pranks but that was the only viable explanation that presented itself to him.

Vicross didn’t appear particularly mischievous though. He simply continued to knead the dough as though he hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary at all.

“With Roksu.” Vicross expanded. “You shouldn’t string him along.”

Ron took a moment to fully digest what Vicross was actually implying.

When Ron had caught up, his thoughts dipped into suspicious curiosity.

“Why would you say that?”

Vicross was entirely undaunted by his fathers skeptical tone. “Did you think you were being subtle?”

This was an unexpected level of sass from his otherwise stoic son. Ron frowned. From start to finish, it was as though they were having two separate conversations. First and foremost, he’d need to establish a base level of understanding.

“I have not been flirting with Roksu.”

That actually caused Vicross to pause in his bread preparation to look up at his father with a skeptical expression, apparently searching for signs of deception.

It felt a bit insulting. He was a bit secretive but he didn’t have a habit of lying to his son. And besides that, he couldn’t quite understand where this entire misunderstanding had sprouted from to begin with.

Yes, he paid his pet rat attention but that was mostly because it was difficult not to keep an eye on the reckless fool. He was likely to get himself killed one day if there was no one to keep him in line.

Besides, flirting was such a juvenile word that mostly described young punks who didn’t know the value of being direct.

“...you honestly believe that?”

There was such absolute and complete disbelief in Vicross’ tone that Ron felt a bit wronged.

“Why would I lie?”

Vicross sighed and shook his head, as though dealing with a truly hopeless case and returned to kneading his dough. “Then all the more so, you should change your behavior towards him. You’re creating misunderstandings.”

There was a slight edge to Vicross’ words that hinted that the boy was annoyed with his father. Again, an unusual hint of rebellion that Ron was unfamiliar with seeing in his son. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t tolerate such rebellion, it was merely that Vicross so rarely engaged in anything of the sort. Even in his early teen years, Vicross had been stolid and consistent.

Ron bit back the temptation to reply with another question. As much as he was dying to know what the hell Vicross was even talking about, it wouldn’t do him any favors not to link together some clues himself.

What exactly was so misleading about his behavior towards Roksu?

Yes, it was amusing to tease his little rat. He liked the way that Roksu jumped and shivered when toyed with but that was hardly flirting. All he was doing was amusing himself with an easy target. Like a cat batting a mouse between his paws.

It was true that his relationship with Roksu was a bit deeper than that. Ron could admit to having some trust in Roksu’s abilities and goals. He quite liked working with him and Roksu made for entertaining conversation but the most that could be said about all was that perhaps Ron might consider him a friend and that was stretching it.

The only thing he could really think of that could create any misunderstanding might be the physical contact. That was easy enough to put a stop to. He only did it because Roksu’s reactions were amusing. If it was troubling Vicross so much, it was an easy matter to surrender.

“I’ll be more conscious of my behavior.” Ron said, a part of him wanted to continue to deny that there was anything untoward about his behavior and he certainly hadn’t been flirting but swallowing his pride wasn’t difficult when it was for his son's comfort.

Vicross glanced up from his work once more. A thoughtful frown on his lips and clearly some words that he wished to express. However, the boy didn’t say anything and returned to his work.

It was unsettling.

If Ron didn’t know better, he would think that Vicross was disappointed in him. It wasn’t an impossibility that Vicross might feel that way but it hardly made sense for this to be the cause.

Ron still wasn’t entirely sure how his son had misunderstood the situation so greatly.

He thought of Vicross’ first words on the matter once more. If you’re not serious was an interesting turn of phrase. Had Vicross thought there was a possibility that Ron was? That was even more confusing than the flirting allegation.

“Is there something else you’d like to say?” Ron asked mildly, figuring it was best to approach the matter directly rather than waiting for Vicross to come up with another ludicrous idea.

Vicross sighed again and this time Ron was sure that it was a huff of disappointment.

“I feel sorry for Roksu.”

That was certainly an unexpected admission.

Ron, already unsettled by this entire conversation, decided to brave figuring out Vicross’ reasoning. “Why is that?”

“You led him on.”

There really weren’t enough words in any language to explain just how confused Ron was by these words. “Did he say that?” Perhaps that was why his son was under such a severe misunderstanding. Was Roksu exploring a more impish side? While Ron could forgive a bit of mischief, he didn’t appreciate the man involving his son.

Vicross fixed him with another look and this time the disappointment was as clear as day.

“No.” He said simply, as though providing further explanation would be pointless because the person he was talking to was clearly far too dense.

Ron decided to let the topic die there. Vicross was clearly bothered and he knew his son was somewhat attached to Roksu. It would be better to retreat for now and gather more information before returning to the topic later.

But really, how could anyone have fallen under such a strange impression?

Chapter Text

The sunlight brought out the hints of maroon in his expressive eyes. The twitch of his lips that hinted at a smile did quite a bit to enhance his already handsome face. His hair had grown out a bit since their first meeting and was now held back with a ribbon that Cale had tied for him.

Ron’s hand twitched.

He wanted to touch him.

The compulsion was nearly irresistible. The desire to close the distance and caress Roksu’s cheek, watch as his ears reddened and his pupils shook while Ron enjoyed playing.

He wanted to see Roksu’s response. To feel the warmth of his skin. To close the distance between them as though it never existed at all.

Roksu’s expression furrowed with concern. “What’s wrong?”

There it was all over again.

The practically unstoppable desire.

Ron forced himself to look away and even that was a task.

He quite liked looking at Roksu.

Damn.

He’d gotten far more attached than he’d meant to.

Damn.

“Nothing.” Ron said coldly. “I have a matter I need to attend to.”

His hand twitched again and he could practically feel Roksu’s confused worry behind him and it made him want to turn around once more and forget his promise once and for all.

He owed Vicross an apology.

The boy hadn’t been talking nonsense after all.

When Ron was clear of Roksu, he placed a hand over his burning face as the weight of the realization hit him all at once.

What was worse? The embarrassment of being so dense that his son noticed before him or the weight of the emotion curling up inside of him?

Now he could understand the point behind Vicross’ criticism.

Ron straightened up and gathered his wits, walking in the general direction of the kitchens while lost in thought.

While there was certainly an emotion there, was he serious about it? Did he actually have any intentions? It was hard to conceptualize. Roksu had always just been… well, he was complicated but Ron had always simplified it by considering him a pet. A curiosity. Entertainment and an ally.

A worrisome punk who didn’t put enough regard for his own life.

An awkward bastard who felt emotions too deeply but hardly showed them behind his stoic face.

Cute, but ultimately just that. He was just Ron’s little rat.

Ron changed direction.

There was no point apologizing to Vicross like this. The boy would want to know Ron’s intentions and he really didn’t know. He really didn’t imagine that he had any intentions towards Roksu.

But he also didn’t imagine that he had any feelings towards Roksu at all.

He’d already managed to surprise himself once and he hardly wanted to make yet another embarrassing claim that he would have to rescind shortly after.

It was also quite shameful to admit that it had only taken two days of not touching Roksu before he could hardly stand it anymore and he had to face all the feelings he hadn’t acknowledged.

He had the feeling that Vicross would look rather smug over the whole thing and he didn’t quite have the heart to deal with that. Not until his heart settled down a bit at least.

Ron hadn’t made it more than a few steps before his path was blocked by a rather fearless and small pup.

“Ron.” Cale really was getting quite good at using a demanding voice. How shameless. Ron affectionately eyed the mutt. “Are you okay?”

It caught Ron more off guard than his earlier revelation.

What did he look like when even a toddler thought that he looked odd? Ron had never wished to see a mirror more in his life. He prided himself in his ability to hide his thoughts and emotions behind a benign countenance but now he was flustered enough that even the pup noticed?

“This Ron is quite alright, young master Cale.” He made sure to put on his best mask to assuage the child’s concerns.

Which was why it was somewhat disconcerting that Cale’s frown only deepened.

He held out a hand for Ron. “Hand.” He demanded, satisfied when Ron obeyed and began to guide the servant down the hall.

Just what curious thing did this child have in mind? It was a pleasant distraction from Ron’s distress to follow along with Cale’s whim.

He was led to a reception room where Cale pointed to a couch with a glower on his face. “Sit.”

Ron raised an eyebrow but obediently sat down on the couch, waiting patiently as Cale climbed up on the couch across from him and composed himself with as much imperious authority as a five year old could manage.

“So, tell me what’s wrong.”

Ron stifled the desire to laugh. The shame of being caught by a toddler was outmatched by the amusement Cale provided. There was something ceaselessly amusing about how Cale managed to march headlong into any issue with complete confidence.

He could insist that he was doing just fine but that might cause the boy to get upset. Well, there was no harm in telling him just a bit.

“There’s something that I want.” Ron said. “But I’m not sure if I want it.”

Cale’s expression pinched up as he worked hard to understand precisely what Ron’s problem was, it was quite an entertaining sight, sort of like a dog chasing its own tail. Foolish and adorable.

Finally Cale seemed to have come to a conclusion. “Can’t you just take it and then throw it away later if you don’t want it?”

The mental image of literally tossing Roksu into the garbage brought even more mirth to Ron’s soul but he knew that wouldn’t be fair to him. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Why?” Cale gave him a critical look. It was adorable on his tiny face. “It’s not like you.”

The question shouldn’t have caught him off guard. It was one of the number one questions one could expect a toddler to come up with when they disagreed with you. It wasn’t unexpected and it wasn’t original.

But it did strike him.

Why exactly was it that he felt so hesitant?

It was a simple question. Did he want Roksu or not? If he didn’t, it wasn’t a problem to create some distance between them until his impulses died down. If he did, it was just a matter of capturing the rat into a cage of his own creation.

Why was he thinking in circles about this?

Cale was correct in his crude assessment, Ron was a decided person. He didn’t spend long on making decisions and he didn’t regret his decisions either. He committed quite easily to most things and never wasted time dithering on whether it was right or wrong.

So why should he feel so paralyzed over Roksu?

Was it because of Vicross’ request? Not to play with Roksu if he wasn’t serious? That could make sense but why exactly wasn’t he sure if he was serious?

It was a simple question.

Did he want Roksu or not?

“Oh.” Cale’s face broke out into a relieved smile. “You’re looking like yourself again. Did you figure it out?”

Ron had to admit, the boy was quite a bit more perceptive than Ron could have anticipated. And surprisingly helpful in this instance.

It was time to capture a rat.

Chapter Text

Within the Henituse territory, one of the most affluent and wealthy territories within the Rowoon Kingdom, countless things across the continent had been changed due to the will of a single individual. The world, and the future, changed every day and moved further away from bleak potential futures.

Kim Roksu was a man who could change the world within two years under the least ideal circumstances and with very little time before tragedy was set into motion. Having fifteen years before pivotal events would begin was almost too much time to achieve such goals.

This allowed for a man who rarely knew any rest at all in his life to focus on the smaller things. It was generally difficult to grapple with interpersonal relationships when one is focused on the real threat of death or world ending terrors.

In another life, he might have worked so hard that he coughed up blood, in this one he had enough time to stretch his legs and feel the sun on his face.

The future changed but there were things that remained the same.

Roksu had a definite sense of deja vu. Here he was, in the Henituse family cellars, pinned up to a wall by the ex-assassin turned servant that protected the house.

Now that he thought about it, there were a few times that Ron Molran had pinned him to a wall. Although nearly every single time he’d done so had an underlying threat of violence or death.

There really wasn’t any threat in Ron’s expression. More than anything, he looked amused.

Not for the first time since meeting this man, he felt faintly like a mouse caught in the paws of a playful cat. The implication of claws were always there but for now he only felt the soft paws bat him about.

Frankly, under better circumstances, Roksu wouldn’t think very much of this moment. He had shed most of his fear of Ron. Although he did retain a rational acknowledgement that Ron was a terrifying and vicious assassin. And he knew that Ron was unlikely to hurt him without a good reason to do so.

The real trouble was, Roksu had a rather different reaction to Ron’s antics these days. Insanity had taken hold and where fear once was had been replaced with a completely different emotion that Roksu was still attempting to get a handle on.

There was a certain amount of guilt involved with deriving a romantic thrill from a person who didn’t know you felt that way.

Although, Roksu had the feeling that even if Ron knew about his feelings he would still do shit like this just to fuck with him. The man had a mischievous streak that bordered on sadistic.

He really must have gone entirely insane to hold such feelings for Ron.

“Do you need something?” To Roksu’s credit, he was able to keep his voice calm and collected. Unfortunately for him, Ron had always been quite good at reading him whether he showed outward signs of emotion or not.

Roksu still couldn’t decide if he loved or hated that about Ron. It was probably a mixture therein.

Ron had a coy smile that made Roksu a bit nervous and he tried very hard not to acknowledge how it made Ron look just a touch more handsome.

Fate was merciless. Pinning him to a wall in a cellar, alone and away from any witnesses, with a man who had his heart in a vice grip.

‘Aigoo… my poor life…’

“That is a very good question.” There was an absolutely wicked glimmer in Ron’s eyes. “What do you think I need, my little rat?”

‘A lesson on personal space…?’ Roksu bit back the words and instead tried very hard not to think about how Ron’s words made his spine tingle.

“Uh…” Roksu wracked his brain for any mistakes he might have made at work. Or was this to do with something else? It was hard to think clearly with Ron this close for a variety of reasons. “Help doing something?” Roksu hazarded, knowing that it was unlikely to be the answer but it at least showed a willingness that might curb Ron’s wrath.

Ron hummed thoughtfully, his cat-like smile making Roksu feel distinctly like he was prey.

Ah, sometimes Ron really did make him feel like a mouse. The strangest aspect of that was that he really didn’t mind. In fact, it had come as a bit of a shock to realize that he liked it.

He liked a lot of things about Ron. That was sort of the problem.

“I suppose I would like your help.” Ron pulled away, giving Roksu blissful space to breathe at last.

He tried not to acknowledge how the chill of his absence filled him with a sense of disappointment.

“What can I help you with?” Roksu asked, straightening up and wondering just how many times Ron was going to completely throw him off with his behavior and words.

Apparently at least once more.

Ron fixed his gloves absently as he spoke, as though he wasn’t saying anything of importance. “Tell me, Roksu. What do you want in a romantic partner?”

Ah.

What the hell was this.

What the actual hell was this.

What in the actual hell was actually going on right now.

Roksu’s eyes shook as his frazzled brain attempted to understand Ron’s meaning. There were many possibilities, ranging from Ron noticed his feelings and decided to mock sadistically all way up to the implausible Ron asking out of sincere curiosity.

Maybe the vicious bastard was just seeking out a new method of teasing Roksu that he could use against him?

Roksu forgot how to breathe. It was one of those things that had always been effortless to do in the past, how exactly had he managed it up until now? It felt like a faraway skill that required far more talent than he could hope to acquire in his lifetime.

With all of his considerable ability to maintain composure under dire straits, Roksu managed a reply. “A person I like?” He tried. And with a second thought he added. “And likes me?”

It was an overly simplistic answer but in truth Roksu had never given the question all that much consideration in his life. Sure, there had been feelings, but he’d never considered a romantic partner . Not without his realistic pessimism establishing quite firmly the likelihood of any given relationship actually going into fruition.

Ron’s lips twitched as though the answer amused him and he approached Roksu once more. This time he didn’t bother to cage Roksu there, as though daring Roksu to attempt an escape.

Definitely like a cat. And Roksu was his plaything. He really should mind that more.

Unfortunately Roksu’s complete focus was on how very close Ron’s face was to his own.

“Last question then, rat.” He asked, his gloved hand grazing Roksu’s cheek in a way that sent pleasant chills up and down his spine. “Do you hold affection for me?”

Damn.

Dammit.

The vicious assassin had noticed.

Well, there was no running from the truth. If he was lucky, he’d get out of this situation without getting stabbed. Actually, it was far more likely that Ron would tease him than hurt him. He’d almost prefer the knife though. Almost. He still hated pain quite a bit.

“I do.” Roksu had no inflection to the words, attempting to get this over with as painlessly as possible. Yet still they stuck to the back of his throat and made his heart pound anxiously in his chest. He could swear that warmth was spreading to his cheeks as well. Ah, this was going to be painful.

Ron smiled coldly. It was his sincere smile, not the benign thing that he hid his emotions behind, the terrifyingly icy smile that meant that he was truly pleased.

In one breathtaking moment, the distance between them closed.

Roksu’s eyes widened as he gasped into the kiss. He could feel Ron smile against his lips. Slowly, teasingly, deepening the kiss.

Roksu wasn’t sure when he’d closed his eyes but when Ron finally pulled away, Roksu was breathless and he had to open his eyes to see the pleased expression on Ron’s face. The hungry look in his eyes that made it abundantly clear that he would like to do that again and more.

“Good.” Ron practically purred, taking Roksu’s hand in his own and lacing their fingers together. “Then we’re in agreement.”

“...yes?” Roksu asked, thoroughly out of his element.

Ron didn’t offer an easy reply, he never did, and instead gently tugged on Roksu’s hand to begin leading him out of the cellars. “This could prove troublesome.”

“Yes?” Roksu’s mind was spinning but it was just starting to focus on the facts. Ron had kissed him. Ron was holding his hand. Ron had a problem?

“I ought to avoid indulging during work but what shall I do if you look particularly delicious?”

Roksu tried to properly grasp what the hell he was being told but he settled for one more troubled and confused. “Yes??”

Ron half turned and pecked Roksu’s lips gently, so soft that it was hard to believe it was from Ron, and affection twinkled in his eyes as clear as anything. “Aren’t I your ideal romantic partner?”

Roksu’s rattled mind at last caught up with events.

This time, for the first time, it was Roksu to pin Ron against the cellar wall. Not that Ron minded in the least.