Chapter Text
He felt someone gently tapping him. The hand was rough, reminding him of an exhausted parent's touch, though he had never known that feeling before. It was warm, not cold like what he remembered from before.
"Young master, it's time to wake up."
The voice sounded profound, but it carried a sadness most people would miss. Kim Rok Soo, though, never forgets anything. Everything he hears or sees stays with him, even if it only lasts a second. He always notices everything.
He opened his eyes and saw red-brown meeting brown.
<I have absolutely no idea who the hell that man is?>
"Good morning. Now, shall we get dressed?" the old man asked, smiling gently at the boy as he sat up. When the boy didn't respond, the old man felt a pang in his chest. He understood the pain—his own son had lost his mother too, but at least he had been there for him. This boy, though, was even younger and completely alone. Since the countess died, his father couldn't bear to look at him because he looked so much like his mother.
Even today, at her funeral, he couldn't bring himself to see the boy. It broke his heart, but as an assassin, he knew he shouldn't get too close to his young master.
If anyone from the cursed Arm tried to hurt him, he would never forgive himself. So, he thought it was better not to get too involved. By keeping his distance, he could protect the boy from danger and avoid getting too attached. He believed this was the right choice as he went to open the curtains.
"Look, it's a lovely morning, right? So why don't we get dressed and walk down to Beacrox? He promised to make your favourite breakfast."
The older man was clearly trying to cheer up the boy, or at least get him to say something.
He thought the boy must be heartbroken.
< What kind of European rich room is this, and did he say Beacrox like the chef from Birth of the Hero? Am I in a f****ing book?>
While the boy panicked inside, the old butler went to the closet and picked out clothes for him to wear.
He handed the clothes to the boy, who only glanced at them and didn't seem to care at all. That hurt even more. The boy used to dress up pretty to impress his mother, but now he couldn't care about something that once made him happy.
The boy was still panicking inside.
<Holy sh** did I seriously get isekaied in my sleep! Wow, that's quite the letdown after everything I have survived through; I die in my sleep and not even jumping to save someone from a truck.>
"Cale, I know it's hard, but you know it's okay to cry when you're sad or at least show some emotion."
The man said gently; it hurt him seeing someone who's not even an assassin be able to completely mask his emotions, especially the eyes, the way they appeared completely hollow. It broke his heart, but he knew to keep him at arm's length for his safety.
<Oh, I'm Cale. Wait, how old am I right now, considering what he said it should be somewhat after the first countess's death>
"Ron."
His voice was quiet and completely emotionless.
"What is it, young master?"
"Help," Cale said desperately, trying not to show his embarrassment or any other emotions that mattered.
He saw his puppy master handing him back the clothes he gave him before, and he chuckled at the sight of how adorable he was, even if he seemed emotionless. He knows who his puppy is, and he does not care about the rumours going around about him.
<I have absolutely no clue how to put this on at all.>
After helping his young master get dressed, he picks him up, and they begin to walk down the stairs to kitchen 2, where Beacrox is busy making crepes filled with cream and strawberries.
"Son"
After plating the crepes, he turns around and sees his father with his unofficial younger brother. Sure, they may not be of the same blood, and he may be a servant, but after watching him be born and grow, he can't help but see him as his huyng.
"Father, young master Cale."
<Is that crepes with strawberries?>
Seeing Cale look at the plates made him chuckle at how cute and innocent his dongsaeng still was.
“Come here.” He reaches out and takes Cale from his father’s arms. With the young boy in his arms, he walks towards the table to put him down. As he begins to eat his breakfast, they both can’t help but smile at the sight of the young boy getting cream on his nose without realising it and simply eating eagerly.
“Ha, look here, young master.”
The butler turned to them, stepped forward, and gently wiped Cale's face, making him blush with embarrassment.
<I’m a grown man in a child’s body, and I still did this God d**n this body.>
"Alright, shall we go now?" asked the man Cale now knew was Ron Molan, though it wasn't really a question.
<What am I supposed to say or do? You’re the adult here, plus you seriously just picked me up before.>
So there was no shock when Ron once again picked Cale up and started walking toward the entrance, where ae a couple of other servants were already waiting, ing yet the count was nowhere to be seen.
“Hello, Ron. The master has already left; he wanted to leave alone.” One of the maids said in a quiet tone, as if she was scared of how the young master would react.
“Ha, of course he has. Ready a new carriage.” Ron said with a sigh. He should have known that the man who couldn't even bring to see his own son since the late countess died would leave without the young master.
“Yes, of course.” The maid said and left quickly.
<Wow, the dad is a b***h, well at least he’s rich.>
After arriving at the bottom of the hill, the boy took the butler's hand and started walking toward the crowd. When everyone turned to look at him, he chose to ignore them. It didn't matter to him. He didn't even know the late countess, nor had he ever had a mother of his own, so it's not like Kim Rok Soo could sympathise with Cale. Then the whisperers started, women and men dressed in all sorts of fancy funeral clothes looking at him, and whispering about him as if he's too stupid even to understand.
“…how…disgusting he can’t even… cry.”
“I have said… it before…he’s the devil's son.”
“…on his mother's funeral and he can’t even cry…”
“…he must be…cursed.”
“Yes, a cursed child…that must be…why she died.”
“He…killed…her.”
<No wonder he became a d**n alcoholic they all ass****s.>
And perhaps if he were the real Cale and not a fake, he would have become one too.
Still holding Ron’s hand, Cale goes to stand next to his father, and the ceremony begins. A short distance from the crowd stand two individuals: a woman and a child.
“He’s quite the interesting kid, isn't he?” The pre-teen said, looking over to young Cale Henituse standing emotionless next to his heartbroken father.
"Of course he is; he's Jour’s." The tan woman said, looking at her young nephew.
"Aunt Tasha, how was Jour?" Her nephew said, looking up at her, always so curious.
"Jour, she was a reckless fool, and an incredibly smart yet stupid woman. She never failed to amaze me at all." Tasha said with a look that the pre-teen could only describe as nostalgia.
"She sure sounds interesting." Her nephew said, casting another glance at the young master Cale Henituse.
"She sure was; actually, she's the one who got your parents together,” Tasha said once again, looking so fond when talking about her.
"Really?" Her nephew said, shocked; he couldn't believe that a woman he hadn't even known about until today was the reason his parents got together.
"Yeah, always the one to play Cupid," Tasha said, her hand tightening against the single Gardenia she was holding.
"That sounds annoying." Her nephew said he couldn't really imagine being friends with such a person without getting headaches constantly.
"It kinda was, but it always turned out good which is why I wonder why she fell for a man like that," Tasha said in a tone of disgust toward the man who wasn't even holding or comforting his and Jour’s son.
"I don't know; I just turned thirteen."
"I suppose you don't, but he never deserved her. I mean, look at him; he's not even doing anything for their child. And don't get me started about the fact that he's not even half as pretty as she was." Tasha started ranting on and on.
"You sound like a jealous old lover." Her Nephew said in a deadpan voice, looking at her.
"I'm jealous of him? never. I don't think he should have married her, and now that boy will be all alone." Tasha said, looking offended by the mere question, before looking melancholy at the young master Cale.
"Do you think he should be alright?" Her nephew asked, looking equally concerned as she felt; after all, this funeral must have brought up memories of his own mother’s passing, her sister’s passing. It sure brought up memories for Tasha because now she had lost both her friends; one was a person she never thought she would ever live without, and the other a friend she never thought she would lose.
"Well, were you?" Tasha asked lovingly, turning to her nephew, so strong and so much like his mother.
"I only got there because of you." He said, blushing a tiny bit, looking away as Tasha laughed at how cute he acted.
"Then you know your answer: as long as someone is there, he should be fine."
"I suppose." The pre-teen said in a sad tone. He knew the pain of losing his mother; he himself lost her when he was younger than Cale, but age doesn't matter. Losing your mother is like losing half of yourself. At least he had his aunt when he lost his father's favour. But young master Cale seems so lonely that there isn't even any emotion in his eyes; they are completely emotionless, just hollow.
"Let's go." He said, and turned to walk away, yet he couldn't help but take one last look at the younger boy. But this time, the boy was staring back at him. But that should be impossible, right? They were standing so far away that a normal human shouldn't be able to see from that distance, yet they locked eyes. Yeah, right, I'm probably just imagining it, he thinks and walks away as Tasha leaves one lone flower, letting the wind take it.
<Who the f***k was that and who wears black coats with hoods at a funeral, and stand far away that screams suspicious.>
"Come here, young master," Ron said, turning toward Cale and holding out his hand for Cale to take.
"Yes, Ron," Cale said, taking Ron’s hand, feeling so small in comparison, but before they could leave, the whispers about him started yet again, and so Ron decided to pick Cale up and started walking without even looking back. He didn't want him to hear what the adults said anymore. He just had to protect him if he could.
"He didn't even cry once."
"Tsh, such a disgrace."
"A devil in disguise."
"Parasite."
<Why am I so sleepy all of a sudden? I'm sure Ron will handle everything.>
"Scch, just sleep if you're tired. You have been awake a lot the last few days."
Nodding, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.