Chapter Text
At first, it was back in Tingen.
Leonard hadn't told anyone else, but for several years, he had considered himself the protagonist of the era. Although life wasn't just about ease and happiness—he had witnessed teammates going out of control and even assisted in killing them, and had attended funerals of other fallen colleagues. And if time stretched further back, to a more distant past, even under the protection of the Church of the Evernight Goddess, even blessed with superior looks and more favor from the adults, being orphaned and parentless, it was hard to say he'd had a childhood that could heal a lifetime.
But overall, Leonard at that time didn't feel that life was particularly heavy or bitter.
Although after work he had nowhere to go, to the point where he basically lived at the company and occasionally filled in for colleagues with important matters without pay—after all, he was always free. But similarly, he didn't have much to worry about. Perhaps he didn't know what it felt like to have someone waiting for him at home, but he also didn't need to fear for anyone. After all, his colleagues didn't require his excessive concern, and the only one he was relatively close to, the Old Man, was almost never apart from him.
Of course, the Old Man was always nagging, seemingly wanting him to become stronger, but Leonard wasn't in a hurry at all—it wasn't time yet. He always responded casually like that, and sometimes the Old Man would scold him for being too perfunctory, but Leonard meant it seriously.
It wasn't time yet. As the protagonist of his era, he hadn't met the other protagonist of his legend yet. After all, in every adventure novel he'd ever read, no protagonist ever went on an adventure alone. It was always in the very first place that the protagonist met the most important partner of their lives, and then they trained together, grew stronger together, and went on to save the world together.
That's how it always went in the stories, so Leonard was still waiting for his destined partner, waiting for the day his legend could finally begin.
And after Klein joined the Nighthawks and made a stunning impression, Leonard thought to himself, the wheels of history were finally starting to roll forward.
He had finally met the other protagonist in his story, the one he had waited so long for.
Admittedly, at first, both he and Klein were full of suspicion toward each other. Klein looked at him with alertness and doubt, and Leonard looked back with skepticism and wariness. But after a few successful collaborations, those negative feelings gradually faded, turning into more innocent curiosity and concern. And at this moment, Leonard realized.
Yes, this was the partner he had been waiting for.
Though it didn't quite match his vague imagination at first—in his earlier reckless fantasies, his partner should have been more lively and straightforward, not someone with as many convoluted thoughts and strange emphasis on propriety as Klein.
But compared to his reckless fantasies before, Klein was actually much better—Klein was meticulous and conscientious enough to make up for the details Leonard sometimes overlooked due to carelessness; Klein wasn't as timid as he had thought, sometimes even daring to take more risks than Leonard would; Klein was gentle, good at cooking, knowledgeable, and treated the people he valued well.
Klein was just Klein, so much better than the partner Leonard had imagined.
In adventure novels, the protagonists always had to go through some misunderstandings before recognizing their partner, and once they acknowledged each other as partners, no difficulty could ever defeat them anymore. He had already acknowledged Klein, even though the other still seemed to have more doubts about him. But Leonard believed, given a little more time, Klein would trust him, just like that stray cat on the street that used to hiss at him but eventually let Leonard pet its noble head.
He almost immediately started looking forward to the stories he and Klein would have in the future.
And it was then that he suddenly understood something—certain phrases his colleagues would occasionally let slip, like "This is really interesting, I have to tell my fiancée when I get home," or "This place is great, I should come here with my parents next time."
In the past, he never needed to think about who to specifically tell when he ate something delicious or encountered something interesting, or who to specifically share those tiny moments of life with. The Old Man shared the exact same sights and experiences as he did, so there was no necessity to tell him in particular. As for the others, they weren't close enough to warrant a special notification. At best, these things might be casually brought up in idle chitchat, and even then, not necessarily intentionally.
But now.
After the main course was taken away, the cake that arrived was exquisitely beautiful, worthy of the restaurant's price. Even though he never liked sweets, Leonard couldn't help but take a spoonful. This cake was so sweet, he thought.
But he didn't dislike it as much as before, because if it was this sweet, Klein would surely love it. He always liked these sugary things, even if he didn't say it out, his eyes would light up every time he ate them.
Like a little kitten, cute.
Next time, find an excuse to bring him here. Would this weekend be convenient, or maybe sometime at the end of the month? What kind of excuse would be better? That guy isn't easy to fool, even if it's an invitation, he always wants to find a way to reciprocate. This restaurant is expensive by his standards, so if it adds to his burden or makes him refuse, that wouldn't be good.
But I really want Klein to taste this too.
He's so thin, even after joining the Nighthawks for so long, he hasn't gained much weight. His waist is so slender it feels like it could snap with one hand. He should eat better. Speaking of which, there's another restaurant I really like, but I don't know if he'd like it. That place does steak well, but it doesn't have many good desserts...
Leonard let these transparent, bubble-like thoughts surface one after another, and as usual, ignored the old Man's nagging that was grating on his nerves.
A sweet and light emotion, like the bubbles floating in his mind—an emotion that had occasionally appeared whenever he thought of Klein over the past while—today, for some reason, suddenly became overwhelmingly tangible, like boiling water vapor in a pot, churning and surging in his chest.
Without realizing it, Leonard had finished the entire cake, which he would normally only take a bite of to taste. He didn't usually like sweets and would only try a little, but this time, perhaps because of the bubble-like emotion brought on by thinking of Klein, he had finished the whole cake and even found it enjoyable.
This cake was really sweet. So sweet. Just like Klein.
Anyway, next time, next time I must find a suitable reason to invite that guy to dinner.
This place, that place, the good food I've had before, the good food I'll have in the future. I want to share it all with him.
Leonard felt almost filled to the brim with an emotion as sweet as today's cake, and even his steps back to the company became light and cheerful. Along the way, he even hummed a few lines, drawing sidelong glances from passersby.
He had never felt this way before. Not even in his happiest moments had he ever been as joyful as today.
Before Leonard could sort out exactly what that emotion was, the pregnant woman arrived at the security company. By the time he understood, he had already become a Nightmare.
Others', his own.