Chapter Text

The sight of a red‑haired teenager in expensive, stylish clothes, stumbling around with a flushed face while carrying a bottle of wine — as costly as his outfit — yet somehow still looking elegant, wasn’t unusual in Rain City. The people nearby gave him respectful distance as they walked, but didn’t pay him much mind as they went about their day.

Well, the locals didn’t.

The visitors, though? They threw the redhead uneasy looks before hurrying away as if they had seen something terrible. In turn, they earned the look from the locals — a look that went unnoticed by both the visitors and the redhead himself.

That redhead was 18 years old Cale Henituse, First Son of Count Henituse, also known as the Trash of Henituse County. Once a promising noble child, he had fallen into disgrace at the age of eight, and sank further in the eyes of nobility after he began drinking at fifteen, along with other trashy behaviors.

Cale Henituse knew his reputation, and never bothered to fix it.

So why, then, when he was wandering aimlessly, enjoying the taste of his wine, did someone ask him — the Trash — for directions of all things?

Cale frowned at the other teenager standing in front of him. The boy looked like a beggar, dressed in all‑black clothes that were ripped and dirty as if they hadn’t been washed in weeks. He seemed about the same age as Cale, with a rusty sword hanging at his hip, one hand braced against the wall.

“You’re asking me to show you the way to the Count’s residence?” Cale repeated, his words slurring slightly as he tipped back another mouthful of wine. He lowered the bottle with a lazy grin. “Why should I bother?”

The black‑clad teen, who already looked like he regretted calling out, hesitated before finally speaking bluntly. “My village was destroyed.” He said through gritted teeth, clutching his sword tightly as if holding back his fury. “I’m the only survivor. Everyone else was killed. I need to report this to the Lord.”

That sobered Cale up quickly. His frown deepened.

He looked the boy up and down with clear judgement in his eyes, then turned around, carelessly motioning for him to follow. “Fine. This way.” He said simply. Pausing right after, he glanced back and muttered, “And pick up those children while you’re at it.” He jerked his chin toward the silver and red pair of kittens nearby. “You nearly crushed them when you jumped over the wall.”

The black‑haired teen froze, staring in surprise. “You saw?”

Cale didn’t deign him an answer. He simply stumbled back in the direction he had come from, then shifted course toward the Henituse residence, resuming his wine as if he had no care in the world.

Once upon another world, Cale Henituse snapped upon hearing the name of Harris Village leaving Choi Han's mouth. He ended up spouting nonsense, resulting in Choi Han beat him to a pulp. It’s funny how a change in wording changes everything.