Icing on the cake - Chapter 3: Part 1

Cherry and Smoke

On the highway, there were many small pebbles. While driving at forty miles per hour, Yuri saw the marks the stones left as they hit the windshield and disappeared, and he understood why his clients often had tiny scratches on their front windshields. That happened from traveling so much.

Upon directly witnessing a fact he had only known by hearsay from his father, he realized that his father must have learned it the same way. The Kiselyovs had never done anything like traveling.

Although he had a lot of experience driving long distances, that wasn’t traveling. He didn’t have the luxury of paying attention to things like stones splashing against the windshield, and since he mainly drove at night on dark roads, the landscape wasn’t visible. Someone who undertakes a journey where there’s always the possibility of dying doesn’t have time to observe trivialities.

Driving during the day on Highway 1, Yuri encountered movie-like landscapes. Following the road carved through the high mountains, the peaks approached and receded repeatedly, with glacier-covered summits visible here and there. Along the way, he saw a transparent river with a blue close to emerald green several times. It was a picturesque color.

Just as Highway 1 was ending and he was about to change to 93, Cheriot, who had been quiet for a while, spoke up.

“There’s a really beautiful lake around here. It’s named after an English princess. Have you seen it?”

Yuri glanced away from the road to observe Cheriot. As talkative as the guy was, Yuri thought he couldn’t be chattering all day, but upon examining his face, he seemed freshly awake. Since he had been sitting still with his head turned toward the window, Yuri had assumed he was awake.

“Better keep sleeping.”

Of course, Yuri had never seen those beautiful places he talked about. The most beautiful landscapes Yuri had seen were that of his friend and his father smiling, and then the tranquility of Vancouver after escaping from the hell that was Saratov. With those two things, he had enough, and he preferred to work rather than travel to see supposed spectacular landscapes.

“Ah, could you tell I had fallen asleep? Sorry. I accidentally dozed off for a moment.”

“Why are you sorry?”

Although he had decided not to prolong the conversation, he couldn’t help asking because he didn’t understand. What reason was there to apologize to someone like him?

Of course, grabbing his wrist on his own was indeed a reason to apologize, but he had already decided to let that go.

“On long trips, the role of the person in the passenger seat is important. Talking so the other doesn’t fall asleep, taking care of the food—that’s basic manners.”

It was the first time he had heard something like that. In the time lost talking and attending to the other, it would be more efficient in every way to sleep a little and then take turns driving. The manners Cheriot mentioned sounded utterly unnecessary.

“It’s the first time I’ve heard something like that.”

Cheriot heard those words, which Yuri had murmured incredulously to himself. He stretched, lowered the window abruptly, and then, raising his voice over the blowing wind, counted off on his fingers.

“Basic rules for the copilot. The one who asks for the ride pays for the gas. The person in the passenger seat gives the driver drinks or snacks for their convenience. They talk to them so they don’t fall asleep, and sometimes even sing to cheer them up.”

Cheriot, who had recited the rules in a soft, clear voice, turned his head to look at Yuri. When their eyes met, he gave a radiant smile and arched his beautiful green eyes.

“They’re the special rules of the Goodnight family. In that sense, do you want me to sing for you?”

Cheriot’s smile, like his appearance, was extremely bright. His reddish-blonde hair waved in the sun, which still shone strongly, and the wind that rushed in. Before this scene, which seemed forged in colors from the very image of the blowing wind, Yuri frowned and turned his head. He had been distracted for too long.

“If you really want to act for the driver’s convenience, I’d prefer you shut your mouth.”

“The day is too good for that.”

Cheriot laughed softly and began to talk about the lake he had mentioned before.

“Lake Louise is formed by glacial melt, so the water is very cold. Once I got in without preparation and almost had a heart attack. Near here, in Banff, there are many beautiful lakes, but none have that emerald tone like Lake Louise. That’s why so many people visit; it’s worth seeing at least once.”

Yuri looked silently ahead and briefly imagined what Cheriot described. The river he had seen earlier had also seemed extremely beautiful, and Yuri felt that just having seen that landscape was already a luxury.

Traveling to see a landscape was something only the privileged could do. In the world, there were too many people who lost their lives in vain without ever having the opportunity to see such a beautiful spectacle. His mother had been one of them.

“From now on, it’s the Icefields Parkway. If we keep going straight, the paradise I told you about will appear. Lake Louise is very beautiful, but it doesn’t compare to paradise. I’m sure you’ll like it too.”

The more Yuri talked with Cheriot, the more he realized that his own common sense couldn’t decipher anything Cheriot said. His apologies, his words of gratitude—every term he used felt foreign. Cheriot’s words were round and each a different color, like glass pebbles scattered on a beach of white sand.

“I don’t understand why it matters whether I like it or not.”

“Well, I think it’s good to share a beautiful view with others.”

Yuri, honestly, couldn’t understand that feeling. Just like when he’d heard about people who travel far to see great spectacles, he only felt as if he were clearing away fog.

“When you arrive, what do you want to do first? It was a trip of over ten hours of driving.”

The one who had actually driven all night was him, but Cheriot was the one asking the question. Yuri was about to correct him but preferred to let it go to avoid hearing more irritating words.

“I’ll contact Alexei first to check the situation. From the messages he left, it seems he’s made some plan.”

He was already worried about the missed calls and messages, so he planned to contact him as soon as they arrived in town and had a signal. Surely Alexei would have discovered many things overnight and would have a lot to tell.

But… how should he tell Alexei what had happened the previous night?

Alexei was a man who finished whatever job he was given, no matter what. When they were under Igor, everyone feared him for his tenacity, and after becoming a fixer, he gained trust thanks to that same sense of responsibility.

So even if Yuri told him they had to abandon the job because the client was trouble, it was very likely Alexei wouldn’t listen.

But Yuri wanted him to give up on Cheriot’s commission. Unlike himself, Alexei was a valuable person with many people who would be sad if he got hurt. That’s why he wished he wouldn’t take risks like before.

“No, that’s not what I mean.”

Yuri frowned and looked at him. Cheriot put his hand into the snack bag on his lap, took out a pack of gummies, and tore it open with a single, decisive pull. He pulled out a small yellow bear-shaped gummy and put it in his mouth.

“I want to jump into the lake and swim first. Then lie in the sun and drink beer. If I fall asleep like that, I’d probably sleep deeply until the next morning.”

Cheriot was making Yuri imagine unnecessary things. For him, someone who only ate, slept, and moved when necessary, these reflections on such mundane acts made no sense.

…Hmm. He did want to wash up. He’d gone more than a full day without being able to do it properly and thought he’d feel better after a shower.

That was all Yuri could think of.

“You can do what you want, but don’t wander out of my sight. Even if there are few people, you never know when an unexpected situation might arise.”

“Okay, Mister Wolfie.”

When he heard the nickname “Wolfie,” Yuri raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Wasn’t it a mutual agreement? I’m Cherry, you’re Wolfie.”

“You can call me Campbell.”

“But even a blind person can see that ‘Cherry’ is a nickname! Then I should use one for you too!”

Yuri furrowed his brow. Cheriot took another small bear gummy and brought it to Yuri’s lips. In the blink of an eye, Cheriot’s hand brushed his cheek.

“Here’s your loot, sir. Calm down, Mister Wolfie.”

Yuri recoiled from the hand approaching to feed him. He quickly turned his head and warned in a low voice:

“Take that away.”

“Okay, okay. Next time, I’ll find something a wolf likes.”

Cheriot threw the gummy bear into his own mouth. An artificial fruit aroma spread, accompanied by the soft sound of him chewing. Buying the candy had been the right choice. Cheriot had already devoured not only the gummies but also two chocolate bars.

For a moment, it seemed he would stay quiet like a child with his mouth full, but Cheriot, who was picking through the gummies, spoke again.

“Ah, I forgot something very important!”

“Tell me.”

“We have to do some shopping before we arrive. It’s a small town, and there are no liquor stores or supermarkets, so we have to buy what we need at the first place we see. It’s inconvenient, but there’s no other way.”

“You’re thinking about drinking in this situation? What a relaxed life you lead.”

“Since we’ve come all this way to a place with beautiful scenery, I can’t spend the whole time paralyzed with fear. Oh, right. I also need to go to the pharmacy.”

“The pharmacy?”

Fortunately, Cheriot dispelled the unfounded suspicion that it was for his wounds.

“I mentioned it in passing, but I’ll be going into rut soon. Since it’ll be hard to find a partner, I need to buy suppressants. But… if you don’t mind me talking about this, maybe I can look around town for someone to keep me company.”

Yuri pressed his lips together at the frank, obscene honesty. For someone who looked like an elegant aristocrat at rest, it was incredible how easily such vulgar words came to him.

He had noticed it before: Cheriot had no reservations about his actions, whether shamelessly showing his naked body or making lewd jokes with ease.

However, it didn’t provoke overwhelming aversion. Throughout his life, Yuri had dealt with many vulgar individuals who spewed words far dirtier than Cheriot’s. By comparison, Cheriot’s behavior seemed like that of an immature boy.

Rut…

It was certainly a problem.

No alpha wants another alpha hanging around during a rut. When Yuri was in the organization, the unspoken rule was to disappear discreetly during that time. Igor and his son Ivan particularly hated alpha pheromones, and Yuri would sometimes get scolded for not controlling his properly.

For these reasons, in Yuri’s world, rut was a shameful, secret matter that had to be handled discreetly, not mentioned casually in a way that invited others to imagine things.

“Let’s go to the pharmacy first.”

It felt strange to imagine Cheriot’s pheromones changing. Repulsion was his first reaction, but it was curiously followed by the fleeting image of Cheriot changing clothes in the hotel room. Perhaps the body he’d seen against his will had left a deep impression.

A completely unnecessary thought crossed his mind: whoever ended up with him would have a hard time.

Cheriot’s member was terrifyingly large. Given his exceptional physique, it was logical that his p3nis would be too, but what Yuri had seen was excessively thick and heavy. If that was its size flaccid, any partner would likely have trouble taking it when he was aroused.

Yuri had dealt with many omegas and had learned that a large p3nis didn’t guarantee a partner’s enjoyment. Though not as disproportionate as Cheriot’s, Yuri himself was far above average. Sometimes the omegas who took him felt pain, and in those cases, he would simply satisfy them with his hand before sending them away.

If you took enough time with foreplay, the body could produce enough lubrication for penetration, but Yuri hated caresses. He would rather take suppressants to get through his rut than go through all that just to have s3x.

Foreplay was nothing but a lie. They met to satisfy a mutual desire, and he found it unpleasant to kiss and caress a body as if feelings were involved.

But Cheriot seemed exactly the type to enjoy melting his partner unnecessarily. From how he could spout sweet words without flinching, Yuri was sure of it. Would he also talk a lot in bed? Nothing ruined the mood more.

Then Yuri realized, belatedly, that he had been making disturbingly detailed assumptions about Cheriot’s intimate situation. The mere fact of having those thoughts felt disrespectful, and he frowned, his lips twisting. Seeing his expression, Cheriot spoke up.

“Are you okay?”

Yuri’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. He felt the flush of someone caught in an indecent thought, and heat rose to the parts of his skin touched by sunlight.

“What do you mean?”

“You squinted. The sun is so strong and you’re driving without sunglasses; I’ve been watching you. Since we’re going to the pharmacy, let’s buy sunglasses too. If you’re not careful, you’ll strain your eyes.”

The words, so different from what he had imagined, confused him. This guy worries about everything, he thought, overwhelmed with remorse for having such strange fantasies about someone like this—and an alpha, at that. He started wondering if he had a mental problem.

“I don’t need them.”

“Of course. Sunglasses are a first-aid item. You could really hurt your eyes.”

Yuri reflected for a moment on how to shut that man up. Since his promise not to scare him prevented the use of threats, he chose another method.

“Are you always this talkative? An alpha who won’t stop chatting isn’t very attractive. I don’t know how you’ve managed to get a partner so far.”

Irony at this level would be fine. It wasn’t an insult or a personal attack, so Cheriot could endure it.

“One moment.”

It seemed to be working. Cheriot straightened up abruptly from his slouch and moved closer to Yuri.

“What you just said… sounds like you’re suggesting that if I shut up, I’d be attractive.”

It seemed it wasn’t working.

“No. I was just telling you to shut up.”

“Am I talkative? Hmm, no, I’m not the strong, silent type either. But I have a public image to maintain, so I’m not like this with just anyone; don’t worry. When I set out to seduce someone, getting a partner is a piece of cake.”

He showed no signs of shutting up. Yuri swallowed a sigh and refuted his rambling.

“From how inexperienced you seemed when you first saw me, it doesn’t look that easy for you.”

“Even a skilled man like me tends to make youthful mistakes when he meets someone he likes.”

Cheriot leaned back in the seat again, gazed out the window, and smiled faintly, as if with nostalgia.

“I had never believed in love at first sight in my life, but you were different from the very first moment.”

At that almost solitary murmur, Yuri stiffened, startled. He couldn’t believe that the behavior—smiling and flirting like a madman—was partly sincere. Yesterday he had thought it was a joke; today he didn’t understand it.

“So I’m rather glad you’re not the person I thought you were. If you had been, I don’t know what nonsense I’d be doing today to try to seduce you.”

Fortunately, Cheriot changed the subject, sparing Yuri from dwelling on it. Soon he fell silent, and the car was filled with the quiet Yuri had desired.

With the air now calm, Yuri thought that, as Cheriot had said, it was lucky he wasn’t a good person. He was more used to—and felt more comfortable with—those who ignored him and tried to trample him than with those who observed him carefully and took care of him.

***

While inadvertently listening to Cheriot’s nonsense, they had already approached their destination. The navigator indicated they were ten minutes away, and soon a large wooden sign reading “Big Fox” appeared on the right side of the highway. Just as Cheriot had said, the place seemed discreet enough. For good reason—the visible buildings could be counted on one hand.

This was good… though also ambiguous.

Such a quiet place wasn’t bad, as there would be few people to run into under normal circumstances. But in low-population areas, restaurants and grocery stores were scarce, and strangers attracted attention. A man like Cheriot would be especially easy to remember. Maybe I should dye his hair, he considered.

But since Cheriot wasn’t a fugitive pursued by the police, he decided not to go that far for now. Anyway, he could take care of buying the food himself.

Yuri finished his brief reflection. As he absentmindedly scanned his surroundings and turned his head forward, Cheriot, who had been quiet until then, suddenly spoke.

“Hey, hey, don’t make that face.”

“What?”

“‘For a paradise, it’s not much,’ isn’t that what you were thinking? Right?”

He hadn’t particularly thought about it, but upon hearing it, he realized it was true. Contrary to the expectation generated by the word “paradise,” the immediate landscape differed little from what they had seen throughout the journey. But Yuri was a man without imagination and didn’t ascribe any greater meaning to the paradise Cheriot spoke of.

Paradise is called paradise because it doesn’t exist.

A place without sorrow or sadness couldn’t exist in this world; it would only be possible in the afterlife. But Yuri was someone who, even dead, would fall into hell, so he could never reach paradise.

Therefore, no matter how beautiful or magnificent that place was, for Yuri it would never be paradise. He simply went along discreetly with Cheriot’s fussing.

“Think whatever you want.”

“But that disappointed expression will change in about eight minutes.”

Cheriot acted as a guide with the tone of a TV host, and Yuri twisted just one corner of his lips. After spending almost an entire day together, he was beginning to get used to the chatter; the silly remarks no longer felt as overwhelming as they had at first. Apparently, one could develop a resistance even to empty words. Just as he was thinking that, Cheriot made another fuss.

“That face says you liked my joke quite a bit, huh?”

“No.”

“No? You laughed.”

How shameless. Yuri smiled to himself at Cheriot’s audacity in confronting him. If he were in Saratov, no one would dare even think of joking with him.

Men of similar rank used to crack vulgar jokes, but if they provoked him like that, Yuri didn’t just stand by. Acts like tapping heads, mocking, and testing the waters were, among that kind of scum, a way to establish hierarchy; if you let them get away with it, they’d take the liberty of deciding rank on their own.

And normal people were simply afraid of him, so they never spoke to him first.

Unlike Alexei, who had a playful side, Yuri never smiled and was so gruff he could barely mingle with ordinary people.

Of course, after moving to Vancouver things changed, but since Yuri himself never went to places where he might run into people, those kinds of situations didn’t happen.

A guy like me shouldn’t be among normal people.

Instead of flatly denying Cheriot’s words, Yuri chose to stay silent. After all, if Cheriot felt at ease, it was better, so Yuri decided to allow the skittish young man his misunderstanding. Whether he had actually smiled or not, denying it wasn’t that important.

While they exchanged remarks that weren’t really jokes, they finally got off the highway. Following the signs, they turned repeatedly along the winding road until the forest swallowed the car. As if they had entered Stanley Park, they drove under the lush, enormous trees on both sides of the road while a cool breeze came in through the open window.

Smell of earth. Fragrance of damp bark. Sound of leaves sprouting green and shiny.

Guided by the sensations reaching his nose and ears, Yuri found himself facing a large, dazzlingly bright river dyed a deep blue.

The flickering light dancing on the rippling waves shone blindingly, like powdered sugar. Whether from the glow on the water or not, the blue river even seemed warm. Tall firs rose around it, with beautiful vacation homes scattered among them.

Soon Yuri realized it wasn’t a river but a lake. Canada’s lakes were so vast they often looked like rivers or seas, and from the terrain, he knew this wasn’t a river. Yet, not seeing its end, it felt like a miniature sea, as if a town had enclosed a small part of the ocean.

“Welcome to Big Fox.”

Cheriot, who had let Yuri take in the majestic landscape, whispered softly beside him. The town was quiet and beautiful, as if a red-furred fox were running through the forest, just as its name suggested. It was a place where one could begin to understand the metaphor of paradise.

…Yes.

Yuri answered in a choked voice and looked away from the lake that kept drawing his gaze.

“But unlike how it looks from the outside, this seems like a resort town. Now that it’s July, it looks like the kind of place that would attract a lot of tourists.”

“In any case, although tourism is its main income, normally only those with vacation homes or fishermen come. But coming all the way here just to row isn’t worth it, so it’s mostly local residents who drop by now and then.”

“It doesn’t matter if they’re foreigners or locals. On the contrary, locals are worse. How many Canadians don’t know your face?”

“Ah, I forgot I’m so famous. Since you underestimate me so much, it completely slipped my mind.”

The car drove along the well-paved road. The various vacation homes built by the lake made it hard to tell what was in the town center. On the way, there was a small church, a café getting ready to close, and, in contrast, a bar just starting to open. It wasn’t a town with many businesses in general.

“I’ve never underestimated you. Rather, weren’t you the one who ended up horrified by me?”

They were words to set the record straight, but Cheriot rubbed his cheek and fell silent. An uncomfortable silence fell, and Yuri wondered if this would make Cheriot retreat again. It had been so long since he’d spent energy trying to understand and worry about others’ feelings that he found it exhausting. The people around him now were only those who had been with him so long he could read their thoughts with a glance. The last person sensitive enough to truly understand his heart had been his mother.

Now I understand what Alexei went through raising Valery, Yuri suddenly thought. Alexei had a lover, someone he had lived with as family all his life. At a stage when he himself needed care, he had insisted on raising a much younger child like a normal kid, and that’s why Alexei worked day and night. They lived in completely different worlds, and that’s why they often clashed.

After a moment of reflection, Yuri decided to ease the discomfort Cheriot must be feeling. It seemed absurd to go to such lengths for someone who wasn’t family, but as his client, he had no choice but to accommodate him.

“It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable. I was just answering truthfully, and that’s how it came out.”

Yuri wasn’t someone raised to apologize so readily. But as he explained his bluntness, Cheriot’s expression softened.

“I didn’t mean to remind you that I’m a bad person.”

“…Could you tell me what you did?”

Cheriot hesitated before speaking. Now that he thought about it, in the hotel room he had also shown interest in knowing what acts Yuri had committed. At the time, Yuri had no intention of speaking, thinking that saying it aloud would be a confession, but now Cheriot’s attitude seemed more like a genuine desire to understand.

However, understanding wasn’t what Yuri was looking for.

“No.”

At the firm, cold response, Cheriot turned his head away. He didn’t seem angry like at the hotel, just pensive.

“Humans are so hypocritical. Based on appearance and attitude, you want to believe they’re good people. It’s happening to me.”

Cheriot brushed aside the bangs tousled by the wind. After a moment of silence, he smiled again and shrugged.

“Well, I understand what you mean. It’s a fact that I hate you, and I’ll accept that you know it too.”

“…Alright.”

As long as he wasn’t afraid, that was enough. Yuri responded slowly, and then, feeling he had more to say, parted his lips.

Why did you come to hate criminals so much?

The question arose, but the answer came instantly, leading to self-criticism.

Who in the world could possibly like criminals, Yuri? Even you despise yourself.

Swallowing that miserable, unvoiced question, Yuri looked ahead. The paved road turned into a dirt path and then into a lush forest. After a minute on a road barely wide enough for a car, their destination finally appeared. At the end of the path stood a small brick house by the lake. Unlike the pretty villas he had seen along the way, it was a modest, even humble-looking place.

“We’re here. Let’s get out.”

“…Wait a moment. Did you book accommodation?”

“No. This is one of the properties I’ll inherit.”

Hearing about inheritance, Yuri remembered that Cheriot came from a family with wealth. His salary alone would make him immensely rich, and with a good family background, Cheriot was undoubtedly exceptional by worldly standards. Though Yuri didn’t plan to treat him as such…

Recalling the comment about having looked down on him, Yuri decided that if he had the chance, he’d ask Cheriot what kind of treatment he expected. He was hired for money and had agreed to please him to a certain extent; it seemed appropriate. Since registering that being shot at was terrifying enough to traumatize a normal person, Yuri sometimes felt a pang of sympathy for Cheriot.

“My mother is Canadian. She was born and raised here. She met my father in this place. The encounter between a rich American on vacation at a resort and a Canadian country girl. Like a Hollywood movie.”

Murmuring this, Cheriot opened the passenger door and jumped out in one leap. He stretched like a caged beast and, with his long legs, walked firmly toward the villa. Yuri turned off the engine, locked the car, and followed.

“I need to check it first, so wait a moment.”

“What? Do you think someone might have infiltrated the place?”

“You never know. If they found your address, there’s no reason they wouldn’t find this place.”

“It’s more likely it was Sam. We met there often.”

Sam… Would that be Samuel?

“One might think he lost affection for his illegitimate lover, but I see you even use a nickname for him.”

Yuri felt a twinge of dislike. It seemed Cheriot had a habit of giving nicknames to everyone, which gave him the impression he was being treated the same as Cheriot’s unfaithful criminal lover. Logically, the omega he’d been physically involved with for months would be closer than Yuri, but he had no tolerance for cheaters. Though it was ridiculous for a criminal to claim there were things he disliked.

“Ah, it’s out of habit. Now that you mention it, you’re right.”

Cheriot stopped dead and murmured:

“If Samuel hadn’t lied to me, things wouldn’t have come to this, right? I never meant to be the lover in an adulterous relationship…”

“How wonderful that you understand that now.”

Yuri approached Cheriot with sincere—if somewhat dry—admiration and peered inside the house. Though it was hard to see through the closed curtains, there were no obvious signs of occupation or moving shadows. But if someone was hiding well, a visual inspection wouldn’t be enough…

Yuri began to circle the house. There were no recent footprints apart from his own, nor any suspicious traces like trampled grass or broken branches.

“Who usually takes care of this place?”

“No one. That’s why there’s probably a lot of dust built up.”

“If it’s been abandoned for so long, maybe a thief got in.”

“I installed surveillance cameras to prevent that, and the windows are also locked. Can I open it now?”

Cheriot asked gently for permission, and Yuri nodded with a hint of unease. Cheriot took a key ring from his jacket pocket and picked out a round, reddish key. As expected for an old building, it looked like the kind you see in movies.

Click—the lock slid into place and the door creaked open. The dust, exposed to the sun for so long, rose from the floor in a thick cloud. Waving through the floating particles, Cheriot opened the living room window that led directly to the kitchen. From there, the lake was clearly visible. Yuri gazed at the glint of the water shining in the sun, then looked away to study the layout of the house.

The house was as simple inside as it looked from the outside. Opening the door led straight into the living room, with the kitchen to the left. On the right were two doors—one was probably the bathroom.

Am I going to have to sleep on the floor? Yuri looked around the living room again, calculating where he could sleep. The sofa placed vertically in front of the bedroom door seemed too small for a man like him.

“Is there only one bedroom?”

“No, if you go around the kitchen, there’s another. I’ll use that one.”

Cheriot seemed excited. While he moved through the house with familiarity and a cheerful face, Yuri decided to leave him for a moment and opened the closed door. As expected, it was the bathroom. Warm-looking blue-green tiles covered the floor; the sink, shower, and toilet were clean, though a bit dusty.

Seeing the bathroom made him strongly want to wash up. He went to the shower stall and turned on the faucet; a squeaky sound grew louder until water gushed out in spurts. The fact that the pipes and boiler worked properly suggested that at least someone visited the house periodically.

Do they come as a family…?

It had been so long since Yuri had anything to do with family activities—even with his own father—that for a moment he recalled a distant past before he had fled. Cheriot seemed to have gone outside, leaving the door wide open. He’d have to teach him a bit more about security awareness.

While lost in thought, Yuri decided to at least splash some water on his face. Unlike Cheriot, he hadn’t brought anything with him, so taking a shower right away was impossible, but the day had warmed up and it was very hot. Though he didn’t sweat much and didn’t think he smelled bad, Yuri wanted to freshen up and cool off.

He took off the black jacket he was wearing and the medium-thickness cotton short-sleeved shirt, then laid them neatly on the sofa. He was about to head to the bathroom but paused to think. He wondered whether to take the knife he kept in his jacket pocket—whether carrying that weapon all the time might scare Cheriot.

While he was lost in brief thought, he heard Cheriot returning. Hearing the energetic footsteps on the floor, Yuri flinched, looked toward the door, and grabbed his shirt.

His body had so many scars that others would find it horrifying—someone like Cheriot…

“Huh?”

But Cheriot never acted the way Yuri expected, and he came in before Yuri could get dressed. Cheriot, carrying a fairly heavy suitcase as if it were a handbag, stopped at the entrance when he saw Yuri shirtless. Their eyes met by accident, and Yuri saw Cheriot’s pupils widen in shock.

Hiding his back as if to conceal the large flame-shaped scar, Yuri turned around. Then he opened his mouth to apologize for showing something unpleasant…

“Oh, really, I’m sorry.”

The suitcase fell to the floor with a dull thud.

“I didn’t, I didn’t mean to look…!”

Cheriot covered his face with his large hands, backed away in a hurry, came back in, slammed the door shut, and said:

“Hey, who just shows their naked body out of nowhere like that?”

His voice, which had apparently risen a bit, made the backs of his hands flush bright red.

“…What?”

Yuri felt confused for another reason. The urgency to hide his battered body vanished, leaving only doubt. He tried to understand Cheriot’s meaning but couldn’t interpret it. The reaction didn’t seem like repulsion, but rather, sheer embarrassment.

“If you’re going to undress, do it in the room or… give a warning.”

While Yuri frowned in bewilderment, Cheriot, unable to calm down, pressed his back against the front door, his hands still covering his face.

“I’ll cover my eyes, so hurry up and get into the room. Next time, warn me you’re going to change clothes…!”

So, he was acting like this because he’d seen him shirtless. Yuri found it both absurd and funny. The same man who joked around without a care while exposing himself was now making a fuss over a bare torso.

When Cheriot acted vulgar and world-weary, that was one thing, but now he was reacting like an inexperienced teenager, which was strange. The people Yuri knew didn’t have such contrasting sides; they were more consistent and predictable. Sure, Alexei was unpredictable, but that was a trait, not a fluctuating attitude.

“Didn’t you change clothes last night without caring who saw you?”

Faced with a reaction that could hardly be fake innocence, Yuri found himself asking an unnecessary question. He could have let it go, but the exaggerated response was comical—not in a bad way, but amusing.

“That’s different from seeing someone else’s body.”

“Seems the same to me.”

“My body is like an incredible sculpture, so whoever looks at it benefits. But someone else’s body is, well… private.”

Cheriot’s fingers, still covering his face, parted slightly. Peeking at Yuri’s torso through the gap, he suddenly lowered his head and urged him, “Hurry up and change clothes.”

“Changing will be complicated. Unlike you, I didn’t bring anything; I’ll have to buy at least some simple clothes later.”

He felt uncomfortable putting back on the clothes he’d worn all day, but remembering a past when he was always too busy to change, he thought he should be satisfied. Yuri laughed inwardly at himself, and as he was about to put his shirt back on, Cheriot spoke.

“Then… wear my clothes.”

Cheriot spoke again, separating his fingers. He fixed his gaze on the green eyes visible through the gap, then immediately closed them. If he was going to peek like that, he might as well look openly; it made no sense to keep covering up.

“It’ll fit you well. Maybe a bit big, but I’ll lend it to you.”

Yuri thought for a moment. If the offer had come from Timac or Alexei, he would have accepted without a second thought. But accepting clothes from someone like Cheriot felt like something he shouldn’t do. The clothes were probably expensive, and he worried they might get dirty.

When Yuri remained silent, Cheriot finally lowered his hands. Consciously avoiding Yuri’s torso, he looked around, realized he’d left his suitcase outside, and quickly opened the door. Instead of dragging it inside, he opened it on the doorstep and pulled out some clothes.

Faced with this puzzling behavior, Yuri narrowed his eyes and watched the strange performance. Since he won’t stop opening the door, I’ll have to teach him how to secure a house today, he thought.

“Here, this.”

Cheriot approached him with a white short-sleeved t-shirt, using the garment as a screen to block his view. Yuri let out a mocking laugh. The behavior was exaggerated—too exaggerated.

“If you’re not disgusted by the sight of me, I don’t mind. We’re both alphas; stop making a drama out of it.”

With that, Yuri reached for the t-shirt. If he rejected such a sincere gesture, the atmosphere would become awkward… And besides, the prospect of clean clothes made him realize how much he wanted them. He felt strange, realizing his own greed.

As he grabbed the t-shirt, his eyes met Cheriot’s, who still held it up like a veil. The light green pupils, hidden behind the fabric, stared at him fixedly, as if they hadn’t looked away for a second. Those dark pupils set within the beautiful green seemed to pierce him with an anxious depth, and Yuri momentarily tightened his grip on the shirt.

In that gaze was desire.

It held a tint similar to the longing an alpha instinctively feels for an omega—the intensity of coveting someone you wish to possess, the pure, animal urge to pounce… Through that gaze, which mixed all of that, Yuri felt that this man perceived him as a sexual object.

The comments about his looks from the first day, the nickname “handsome,” the whisper that he liked him, the constant chatter about being his type… No matter how much he had heard it, he hadn’t truly felt it until this moment, until it pierced his skin.

In the sticky air that clung to everything, Yuri grabbed the shirt by reflex. But Cheriot didn’t let go of the garment easily. In an instant, his hand tightened; feeling the tension of both of them pulling, the hair on Yuri’s back stood on end. A shiver ran through him, and an itch crawled up his spine.

A damn alpha was daring to look at him with those eyes.

He should have felt disgust—an instinctive urge to lash out.

Instead, Yuri’s body filled with an inexplicable tension. Every nerve went on high alert, and Cheriot’s pheromones hit him with unusual clarity. The moment he sensed them, something felt so strange that Yuri let go of the shirt. At the same time, Cheriot also released his grip.

The shirt fell to the floor with a soft rustle. With the thin fabric gone, Yuri’s bare torso was fully exposed to Cheriot’s gaze. Scars of every kind covered his body, especially across his chest—white marks etched into his skin.

They were old, accumulated scars, none of which could politely be called pleasant to look at. In places, newly grown skin had filled in the white marks, like patches sewn together from shattered pieces. His complexion was pale, so from a distance they might go unnoticed, but up close they were impossible to ignore.

They were proof that his life had been a string of forcibly prolonged moments.

For the first time, showing someone the marks of his life, the first thing that hit him was unbearable shame. But strangely, he also felt a subtle, inexplicable sense of release. After all, Cheriot already had an idea of what kind of person he was, and he wouldn’t be disappointed now because of him.

“…It got dirty. I’ll give you another.”

As Yuri, indifferent, braced for the revulsion he expected, Cheriot—who had been silent—spoke. His voice, already deep, was lower now, unlike earlier when it had risen. Yuri blinked, startled by that low, veiled tone. It overlapped with the intense gaze he’d felt moments ago.

“No, I’ll wear it like this.”

“No. I’ll get you a different one.”

To stop an unnecessary act, Yuri crouched to pick up the shirt. The moment he stood up, he felt Cheriot’s eyes on his hunched back. The scar on his back—shaped like a burn—had been made by partially scorching him with fire. There were also slash wounds carved in the shape of a cross with a machete. These were the handiwork of Igor and Ivan, created as the price for the foolish beliefs his parents had clung to.

Suddenly, his hands went cold. Alexei had probably never seen these scars. After his mother died and these marks appeared on his back, Yuri had never shown his bare body to anyone. Because of the countless memories tangled in those scars—memories that stuck in his throat like an impossible hairball—he hadn’t even looked at them himself in a long time.

But Yuri gritted his teeth. Bl00d rushed to his head, veins bulging in his eyes, but he wasn’t childish enough to react to his own memories and show emotion to others. The more he let it get to him, the more it would look like he was admitting weakness. He clamped his mouth shut so hard his jaw ached, then slowly straightened up, bracing for Cheriot’s shocked gaze.

“Then let’s go shopping.”

As he stood and straightened his posture, Cheriot spoke. On Cheriot’s face, staring down at him, was an expression Yuri hadn’t expected. His eyes held a kind of dismay, as if he’d seen something he couldn’t name. On his lips, which had said “let’s go shopping,” was a soft, reassuring smile.

For a moment, Yuri couldn’t speak. Unlike the calm Cheriot, it was Yuri who felt like he was about to frown, and he barely managed to close his mouth to wipe all expression from his face. That emotion—neither pity nor contempt, but something beyond—was something Yuri was seeing for the first time in his life.

“Okay.”

“It’s 2 p.m., so if we hurry we can buy clothes and do the shopping. Everything here closes at 4.”

“…Okay.”

Cheriot, still close, listed the tasks while looking at Yuri. Yuri could only respond quietly. His throat felt blocked. Maybe it was because the inside of the house was too dry.

“I’ll start the car and get it ready. Change slowly and come out.”

Cheriot smiled and left Yuri alone. Only when he saw Cheriot—retreating with a mature attitude—casually close the open suitcase outside and toss it inside did Yuri finally relax the tension that had stiffened his body.

A soft sigh escaped him. With a confused gaze, he stared at Cheriot’s shirt in his hand, and—unable to sort out his thoughts—he squeezed his eyes shut.

…I thought he’d run.

It must have been about a year after the scars from his punishment had healed. It was summer, an unusually hot day for Saratov, with temperatures over 85 °F. When he returned from work, his body was covered in bl00d. Disgusted by the car’s interior, which reeked intensely of iron, Yuri stopped by a small river he saw on his way back. He took off his clothes and washed them repeatedly, watching the bl00d flow downstream with the current.

The bl00d on his clothes and body gradually cleared until it disappeared, but the metallic scent in his nostrils only seemed to intensify. As he decided to head back, he heard footsteps. It seemed some young people from a nearby village had come to bathe.

The faces he turned to see were all youthful. Looking back now, they must have been around his own age, about twenty, but at that moment, Yuri thought the young people on the riverbank were much younger. It was because they all appeared completely free of worries and sorrows—though, of course, who in the world is without their own burdens?

Upon discovering Yuri, the young people initially showed cheerful expressions and ran toward him. But soon, one of the girls stopped dead in her tracks. The joy of finding someone of a similar age vanished, replaced by a pale terror on her face. The fear spread instantly, and everyone froze in place. Their gazes were all fixed on Yuri’s back.

As he stood there watching them, the young people turned away. The boys’ backs, already bare from the heat, were smooth and beautiful—unlike Yuri’s, without a single scar. The sunlight filtering through the trees onto their glistening, wet skin sparkled like light on water.

Yuri stood staring at those flawless backs until the group disappeared from view, for so long that the overhead sun grew scorching and made him dizzy.

The smell of bl00d still lingered nearby. Yuri walked silently toward his parked car and began heading toward the city he belonged to.