But contrary to Ian’s expectations, he never once ran into the man again after that day.
Apparently, the man occasionally came out to oversee training, but he never ventured as far as the fountain, which lay some distance from the training grounds. That was only natural. They were hardly close enough for him to go out of his way just to see Ian.
So why did Ian feel a faint stab of disappointment?
He spent a long time turning that incomprehensible feeling over in his mind, but in the end, there was only one conclusion he could reach.
Ever since waking up in this place, Ian had felt as though he were drifting through a void.
He had no idea why someone like him, a man whose life had nothing to do with fantasies, had suddenly been thrown into a situation like this. Still, he was bleeding. He was breathing. If he wanted to, he could have tried to kill himself again, just as he had originally intended.
The reason he hadn’t was simple.
He still didn’t understand why.
Why had he, someone who had clawed and scraped so desperately to stay alive, taken his own life?
Not at the orphanage.
Not in the Dosga household.
Not even when he killed someone for the first time.
Ian had never once thought about dying.
He couldn’t have.
It had always felt as though the entire world were telling him to die, and so he had fought tooth and nail to survive in spite of it.
“…”
And yet, in the end, he had plunged a knife into his own throat.
If that was how it had happened, then at the very least, he wanted to know why.
And to find out, he needed to see that man one more time.
There was almost no doubt that the man was connected somehow to the memories Ian had lost.
Crunch.
Perhaps noticing that the sound of splashing water had stopped, the child who had been lingering a short distance away came closer.
Ian glanced over.
The boy was still smiling brightly, a childish grin spread across his swollen face.
Ian found that presumptuous friendliness irritating.
Perhaps he had grown somewhat accustomed to Ian never reacting to him, because the boy’s openly curious gaze slowly traveled downward.
Those softly colored eyes eventually settled on the back of Ian’s hand.
Ian was just beginning to wonder why he was staring so intently when, sure enough, the child reached out.
It was obvious what he intended to do.
Ian’s eyes narrowed.
The instant that gentle warmth touched him, he slapped the boy’s hand away.
Smack!
The child flinched and stumbled back a step, clutching the hand that had immediately turned red.
Even after seeing his startled face, Ian did not regret what he had done.
He knew there was no reason to be so sensitive, yet he couldn’t shake the foul mood that had settled over him. Unlike his usual indifference toward practically everything, Ian’s expression turned glacial as he stared directly at the child.
He wished the boy would finally understand.
If someone wasn’t worth wasting your affection on, you should turn away without hesitation.
If you hung around someone for days and they never even acknowledged your greeting, then anyone—no matter how dense—would normally get the message.
This person isn’t the one.
No matter what I do, it won’t work.
Something like that.
If you were so starved for affection that you gave your heart away indiscriminately, all you would be left with in the end were moments you regretted.
The boy seemed to read the undisguised message in Ian’s expression.
Having taken a step back, he hesitated and watched Ian warily.
The look on his face—as though he genuinely could not understand why Ian was angry—reminded Ian of someone else.
Ian’s lips, which had not opened once in the boy’s presence since they first met, twitched.
‘Go.’
The shape of the word was so clear that there was no possibility of misunderstanding.
The hesitant child’s eyes widened.
Apparently, the message had gotten through.
Maybe it was because Ian had barely reacted to him for days.
Seeing the child falter as though he had heard something completely unexpected, Ian finally let out a rare sigh and swept his hair back.
He was simply tired of everything.
The weather was freezing.
There was too much to do.
And he still had no idea how he was supposed to recover his memories.
He had let countless things pass without much thought because he understood none of them, but that did not mean he was truly fine.
In some ways, things felt even darker now than they had in the past, when he had been dragged from place to place killing people.
At least back then, he had possessed something resembling a goal, however vague.
Now, there was nothing.
Unable even to decide whether he should live or die, Ian was being carried along by someone else’s life, drifting helplessly like a man swept out to sea.
He could not quite make out the expression on the child’s face as he stared back at him.
Since the boy no longer tried to approach, it probably wasn’t a pleasant one.
It felt a little as though Ian were taking his frustration out on him for no reason.
But it didn’t matter.
Ian turned his head away.
A moment later, the child retreated another step before finally turning his back.
Ian heard only the uneven sound of his footsteps as he limped toward the entrance.
For a while, Ian stood blankly beside the now-empty space.
That was the end of it.
Responding to kindness with kindness would only lead to an obvious conclusion.
Better to cut things off before they ever began.
Having settled the matter in his mind, Ian turned, strode back toward the fountain, and plunged the few remaining clothes into the water.
Pain flared through his hands the instant they struck the icy water again, but he ignored it.
If Fred tried ordering him to do this crap again tomorrow, Ian had decided he would change tactics and simply punch him.
About thirty minutes passed.
He was rinsing the final piece of clothing when he heard the crunch of snow behind him.
The path was frequently used by servants, so there was nothing unusual about someone passing by.
But Ian’s hearing was sharp enough to notice something immediately.
The footsteps were uneven.
The person approaching was limping.
Crunch.
Unlike when the boy had left, those slow, deliberate steps were careful now.
It wasn’t as though Ian owned the place, and barking at him again would be ridiculous, so he did not turn around.
Even as the footsteps drew closer, he continued moving his hands as though he heard nothing.
Then, as if mocking the fact that Ian had chased him away only moments before, warmth approached his side again.
Trickle.
Lukewarm water spilled over Ian’s reddened hands.
For a moment, Ian froze completely.
The water had cooled considerably and was barely more than lukewarm, but against his frozen skin, it was warm enough to bring feeling back into his fingers.
Wisps of steam rose faintly into the air.
Ian lowered his gaze.
The small hand holding the cup was covered in wounds.
His eyes lingered on the bruised, swollen wrist trembling under the weight of the cup as the last few drops of water trickled out.
“…”
Ian silently turned his head.
Bright, sparkling eyes met his immediately, as though they had been waiting for him to look.
Whatever cuteness the boy’s features might once have possessed was almost entirely buried beneath reddish-purple bruises.
Even with the greatest generosity, his face could hardly be called pleasant to look at now.
One cheek was swollen.
The corner of one eye was split.
His entire appearance was battered and ragged.
And yet he grinned.
“Heh.”
It was ridiculous.
The expression almost seemed to be asking whether Ian was all right.
What exactly was supposed to be wrong with him?
This barely even counted as an injury.
He was not teetering between life and death.
Nothing had been cut off.
Ian could not understand why a pair of cold hands was worth making such a fuss over.
That idiotic smile.
The way the boy had limped all the way back here.
Even the way he had cautiously crept up beside someone who had just driven him away.
It was all pathetic.
Foolish.
Whether he knew what Ian was thinking or not, Shu was practically glowing with excitement.
Now that Ian was no longer telling him to leave, the boy looked ready to start wagging his tail.
He smiled for no particular reason, then suddenly glanced down at the cup in his hands.
This was all the water he had been able to sneak out.
The servants were allowed to use it freely, but if Terk found out, Shu would be scolded again.
Still, no matter how he looked at them, Ian’s hands did not seem completely warmed yet.
Shu thought as hard as he could.
Then he lowered his head and blew a puff of warm breath over Ian’s fingers.
Hoh.
Ian’s pale fingertips twitched at the ticklish sensation.
But Shu, having apparently made up his mind, diligently pursed his lips again.
Hooo.
There was no possible way something like this would actually warm them.
And yet Ian stared down for a long time at the crown of the boy’s head as Shu earnestly blew warm breath over his hands.
He had always tried his best not to get involved with people like this.
People who were always being deceived.
People who were always the ones losing out.
People who, for some absurd reason, always ended up…
Being the first to die.
“Heh.”
The child lifted his head and peeked up at Ian, smiling foolishly.
Then he quickly straightened.
Clutching the cup tightly in both hands, he began gesturing with his arms and legs.
It seemed to mean,
Wait here.
Apparently unconvinced that Ian, who gave no response, would actually stay put, the boy hesitated several times before finally limping away.
Then he hurried toward the entrance where he had disappeared earlier.
He was probably going to fetch more water.
Ian watched until the boy’s back vanished completely from sight.
Only then did he turn his head.
Not far away lay the clothes Shu had brought that morning.
If he carried them back like that, he would probably be beaten again today.
Tomorrow, he might not even be able to walk.
“…”
Still none of his business.
Reaching the same conclusion he had several days ago, Ian silently walked over and bent down.
One by one, he gathered the scattered clothes from the ground.
Then he pulled Shu’s wooden washboard out of the fountain, where it had sunk beneath the water, and set it upright properly.
A short while later, Shu came hurrying back.
He stopped dead when he saw his laundry, already neatly washed and rinsed.
A myriad of question marks practically appeared above his head.