Chapter 1
Notes:
(Original note:
Logically, I should be writing Hydra right now, but instead I suddenly started this longfic-looking Sentinel/Guide story, random hurt/comfort, random sex, and then cuts off out of nowhere.
It was supposed to be: ch1 comfort; ch2 sex… But it ended up way longer than expected and I have no idea what I’m even writing...*despair*)
【But the English version won’t have the sex scene】
Chapter Text
"Emergency alert! A high-risk sentinel is rampaging!"
"Requesting backup! The sentinel is SSS-level! our team can't get close!"
"We can’t hold them back…!"
"All teams fall back and maintain perimeter security."
A calm voice cut through the chaos. The crowd instantly stilled.
"Commander!"
"But sir, it's dangerous…!"
"I know," Hugo replied, eyes fixed ahead, narrowing his sharp blue gaze. Violent waves of energy surged out from the center, unstable and crushing. Even from a distance, the force slammed against his skin like a solid wall.
An SSS-level sentinel, alright. Not something you saw every day.
Hugo braced against the oppressive pressure and stepped past the stalled squad, walking steadily toward the eye of the storm.
At the center of the cracked, splintered ground, a figure was curled up tight.
Too small, too fragile, trembling like a leaf, a pitiful contrast to the overwhelming chaos around him. But every nerve, every trained instinct screamed that this frail-looking person was the source of it all.
The crushing weight in the air pressed down like gravity gone mad. Cold sweat soaked Hugo’s back. The closer he got, the more intense the pressure became—exponentially so. Even someone like him was forced to slow down. But he didn’t need to get much closer. Any further might agitate the sentinel.
He stopped.
Icy blue energy gathered in the air beside him and cut sharply through the raging storm, shooting forward like a harpoon and sinking into the trembling figure’s body.
——A complete mess.
Even without diving fully into the other’s mental landscape, Hugo could sense just from the brief connection—this person was catastrophically damaged. He was surprised the sentinel was still alive. Maybe that alone was a testament to what being SSS-level meant.
The state of his mind was so fragmented Hugo didn’t know where to begin. But he immediately increased the output of his guiding energy, trying to stabilize him.
The unruly energy struggled violently in response. Hugo's foot slid back involuntarily, but he steadied himself and stepped forward again.
The translucent thread of icy blue energy grew more solid, linking the two of them. In the midst of the howling storm, Hugo gently cleared through the mental wreckage like someone carefully rebuilding a pile of toppled toy blocks.
Suddenly, the curled-up figure lifted his head, shaking.
Dust-covered golden hair peeked out, slowly turning toward Hugo. His pale, dirt-smudged face remained strangely beautiful, if anything, the grime only enhanced the impression of his fragility. Bloodshot golden eyes blinked at him, unfocused and dazed, occasionally flashing with brief clarity.
Then his head dropped again. After lying still a moment, he shook his head forcefully, sending dirt scattering from his hair.
Despite only a sliver of chaos having been cleared, the young-looking sentinel was already responding, far earlier than expected. Anyone else would still be unconscious mid-rampage. Was his mind that strong? Or had he simply grown used to living on the edge of collapse?
Hugo’s guiding energy poured in, vast and powerful as sea yet gentle as a spring stream, washing over the scorched remains of a broken psyche.
The sentinel gasped softly, instinctively, like a drought-stricken land drinking in rain.
Golden eyes flickered to life with shaky clarity.
At last, the wild energy settled. The sentinel clumsily pushed himself upright, sitting on his knees, staring blankly at his trembling hands before lifting his head and gazing in dumbfounded silence at Hugo. Clearly, he had no idea what just happened.
Still, something in him responded, maybe instinct. His mind relaxed and accepted more of Hugo’s presence.
As the guiding energy was rapidly absorbed, Hugo felt himself dragged deeper into the sentinel’s mental world—pain flaring through his body as if crushed by an elephant.
A childlike figure with glowing golden hair floated in formless chaos, hugging his knees.
Star-bright eyes flicked up to meet his.
Hugo gasped.
The connection was severed.
“What did you just do to me?”
The voice was hoarse, laced with anger, and something like fear. The sentinel planted a hand on the ground and forced himself upright, teeth clenched.
Hugo met his glare calmly. “I just guided you. You can feel the difference, can’t you? You’re more stable now.”
“Guiding…?” His voice softened slightly but was still edged with distrust and confusion.
He doesn’t even know what that is? Hugo thought, surprised. How could a sentinel not know about guiding?
Still, he kept his tone patient. “Yes. I helped you sort through the chaos in your mental landscape. It wasn’t a full session, but I managed to stabilize part of it. That’s why your rampage stopped. If you allow me, I can guide you again.”
The sentinel bit his lip, clearly aware that Hugo wasn’t lying. He stared hard at Hugo’s composed face. Slowly, the intense hostility began to fade, replaced by cautious suspicion.
Whether out of instinct or curiosity, he finally muttered, “Alright…do that again. But I’m watching you. Don’t you dare mess around in my head.”
Hugo didn’t react to the glare, he simply summoned more guiding energy and sent it gently toward the sentinel. The sentinel eyed it warily, looked at Hugo again, then allowed contact.
His mental landscape was no longer a storm but a devastated battlefield, ruins everywhere. The blue energy flowed steadily, cleaning up debris and cautiously rebuilding, never crossing the invisible boundary the sentinel had set.
Despite allowing shallow-level contact, the sentinel’s mental defenses remained tight. Any overstep would trigger an immediate backlash. Full recovery would take time, and Hugo wasn’t in a rush. Earning trust came first.
He finished clearing a small portion of the mindscape and withdrew.
The sentinel’s face was still pale but improved—less bloodshot, lips regaining color. The beautiful face finally showed some signs of life.life He bit his lip again, visibly conflicted.
The lip seem to be bleed.Hugo frowned slightly, about to say something, but he blurted out first, “Who are you? You’re not a normal person if you can guide me.”
“I’m Hugo Agrizendro, an SSS-level guide from the Guide Tower.”
“SSS-level…” he echoed.
“And you?”
The sentinel stared at Hugo, silent for several seconds before muttering reluctantly, “Leonardo Blaine.”
“Alright, Leonardo. May I come closer?”
“For what?”
“Your mental state is dangerously unstable. As a guide, it’s my duty to manage your condition and help you recover. And since your outburst caused serious disruption, the Guide Tower is also responsible for supervising this incident.”
Leonardo looked like he wanted to object to the first half, but Hugo’s calm delivery of the second half made him shut his mouth.
He pouted, scratched the back of his neck, messed up his already messy hair, then sighed. “Fine.”
Hugo stepped forward.
Up close, the damage on Leonardo was more obvious. His skin was pale and covered in small cuts. His golden hair, despite being dusty, still shone with a soft luster. Hugo instinctively reached out and brushed the dust away—soft, unnaturally silky strands for a sentinel.
Leonardo flinched and stared wide-eyed.
“I was just brushing off the dirt,” Hugo explained gently, then asked, “Do you want to wash up?”
As he spoke, a stream of clean water formed in the air. Leonardo examined it, glanced at Hugo, and seeing no malice, visibly relaxed. His eyes lit up at the sight of the water.
He accepted the offer and washed up briefly.
Droplets ran down his face and jaw. Long fingers flicked water away, scattering it like beads. Looking cleaner, Leonardo seemed noticeably refreshed. The atmosphere around him lightened, and he even offered a small smile.
“Let’s go,” Hugo said, extending a hand.
“Go where?”
“To the Guide Tower.”
Leonardo glanced at the offered hand but didn’t take it. Hugo didn’t mind and withdrew it.
The boy followed him without protest, occasionally sneaking glances sideways.
When they returned to the team, many looked at Leonardo with thinly veiled apprehension. Hugo clapped his hands to draw attention.
“Everyone but the cleanup squad, return to the Tower.”
“Yes, sir!”
“…Commander?” Leonardo mumbled thoughtfully under his breath.
Hugo heard him but said nothing, leading the group away.
The Tower was busy. Every person they passed greeted Hugo respectfully.
Leonardo said nothing under the constant bombardment of “Commander, sir,” but gradually moved closer, like hiding behind Hugo’s larger frame.
Once they reached a quiet hallway, Leonardo subtly stepped away again, letting out a tiny breath. Hugo noticed. Clearly, Leonardo wasn’t used to being looked at.
In the quiet corridor, only the sound of a pair of leather shoes clacking echoed softly.
“Where are we going now?” Leonardo asked, voice calm.
“The interview room.”
Leonardo flinched, as if he had thought of something creepy. Although it was unclear what exactly he imagined, Hugo reassured him, “It’s just a normal room. We just need to ask some questions. You’ve been cooperative, there’s no need for an interrogation.”
Leonardo didn’t respond.
The room was as normal as described—clean white walls, wooden table, neatly arranged chairs. Leonardo looked around and sat down on the chair Hugo had pulled out for him.
Hugo sat down across from him and began the questions.
Leonardo answered them all.
And every answer was more shocking than the last.
A sentinel unaffiliated with the Sentinel Tower. Imprisoned in a lab from a young age, subjected to inhumane experiments to forcibly awaken abilities. Later, tossed into the most dangerous border warzones because of his strength. He had no proper knowledge of being a sentinel, had never even heard of guiding—not just because of his level, but because no one had ever intended for him to survive long enough to need it. He hadn’t been trained, protected, or supported—only used. A disposable pawn, thrown onto battlefields and left to spiral into violent breakdowns as a last-ditch form of destruction. Treated like a tool, pushed beyond every limit until his body broke, sustained only by stabilizers that had long since lost effect and now teetered on the edge of toxicity.
No wonder he was broken.
The fact that he was still alive was a miracle.
Hugo rubbed his forehead, looking at the serene, puzzled boy across the table.
Leonardo wore a simple, confused expression, like a pure angel accidentally dropped into a cruel world.
Hugo sighed.
“There will be consequences for the disturbance you caused. But you’re a victim too. I’ll push for leniency. From now on, you’ll stay with me and receive daily guidance. And learn everything a sentinel is supposed to know.”
His mind raced through Leonardo’s condition, his own schedule, the political fallout, and which departments would be involved.
He had expected Leonardo to complain, to show some resistance, but instead, he accepted everything without protest. That unexpected obedience left Hugo feeling strangely conflicted, like watching a child being far too well-behaved.
Leonardo was an adult—of course he was—but perhaps because he had never truly been allowed to grow up freely, he still seemed too slight, too young. His frame was lean despite being tall, and standing next to Hugo, he somehow felt even smaller. Hugo couldn’t help but see him as a child.
“…You don’t mind?” Hugo asked.
“Mind what?” Leonardo blinked. “It’s my fault things got messy. It makes sense I’m held responsible. Guidance feels good,I’d be stupid to say no. And if I want to stay alive, I have to learn how.”
Hugo nodded.
“What about you, though? Aren’t you busy? You’re the head of the Guide Tower, right?” Leonardo leaned back, balancing the chair on its rear legs.
“That’s exactly why I have to take responsibility for you. And more importantly, I’m the only one capable of guiding you.”
“Mhm.”
“But I can’t stay by your side all the time. When I’m gone, my adjutant will assist you. He’ll also handle your education.”
Tap.
The front legs of Leonardo’s chair touched the ground again.
“Fine. So… are we doing another session now?”
His tone had shifted. Just slightly. Hard to read.
“No. You need rest. After today’s episode, you must be exhausted.” Hugo stood, returning the chair to its place.
Leonardo stood too, nudged the chair under the table with his knee, and followed Hugo out the room.
They walked in silence through long hallways and up numerous stairs. Beneath painted ceilings and chandeliers, Leonardo was faintly out of breath when they finally stopped.
“This is my private room. You’ll stay here from now on.”
The door opened without a sound, revealing the room beyond. Sunlight poured in through the large, bright windows, spilling over the deep crimson leather sofa and the finely carved wooden table positioned at the center. Tall bookshelves stood neatly filled, a low table sat perfectly arranged, and a vintage wall clock hung by the side. There was even a bed so wide it looked like one could roll around on it wildly without ever falling off.
Leonardo stood just outside the doorway, eyes darting about as he took it all in. It wasn't until his gaze met Hugo's that he suddenly realized the man was still holding the door open for him. He quickly slipped inside.
Hugo invited him to sit wherever he liked, then removed his outer coat. When he turned around, Leonardo was already curled into the sofa, eyes closed in contentment.
Hugo sat beside him. The soft couch dipped under their weight. Leonardo tilted slightly toward him, eyes half-lidded. He clearly loved the sofa. Drowsiness clouded his features. But Hugo couldn’t let him fall asleep just yet. He reached out to lift him gently by the back of his neck and the left shoulder. Leonardo jumped like he’d been shocked, scrambling to the far end of the couch, clutching the armrest.
Hugo raised an eyebrow, unfazed.
“What are you doing?” Leonardo asked warily, not quite angry, not quite scared.
“If you’re going to sleep, the bed is better.”
“I’m not picky…” Leonardo muttered, avoiding eye contact. Then louder: “You’re really letting me stay here? Sleep in your bed?”
“This is the safest and quietest place. I also need to monitor your mental condition constantly.”
Hugo responded with his usual calm, even in the face of Leonardo’s oddly changeable moods. On the surface, Leonardo appeared stable—almost too stable—but Hugo, as a Guide, knew better. His mental landscape remained fragile, like a storm barely held at bay, and Hugo, the only one capable of grounding him, had to stay constantly alert for any sign of another collapse.
Leonardo looked like he wanted to say something—then thought better of it.
“…I’ll take a bath and go to sleep.”
“Wait.”
“What now?”
“Do you have any spare clothes?”
Leonardo froze. He looked down at his worn-out clothes, then back at Hugo, pursing his lips, saying nothing.
Hugo understood immediately.
“I’ll have my adjutant buy you some. For now, would you mind wearing mine?”
Leonardo hesitated, opened his mouth, closed it again, then gave a tiny nod, and bolted into the bathroom.
2025.7.8
Chapter 2
Notes:
It probably feels like their relationship is moving way too fast, but there's no time to worry about that, I just want them to start dating right now.
Wrote thousands of words of setup and still haven’t gotten to the main point.jpg
Chapter Text
Hugo took a spare set of clothes and placed them by the bathroom door. After letting Leonardo know, he returned to the desk to continue sorting through papers.
Amid the rustle of writing and the crisp shuffle of documents, the faint sound of running water stopped. Moments later, the door cracked open, and closed just as quickly. A longer hush followed before the door opened fully.
Hugo looked up.
Leonardo’s golden hair, dripping wet, clung to the smooth curve of his skull and rested on his forehead. Water droplets tumbled from damp tips, tracing along his slender nape down toward his collarbones. His pale skin looked like translucent porcelain, the wash clearing away fatigue, his golden eyes now stunningly bright, accentuated by fine golden flecks on his lashes and a slight redness at the corners.
His shirt was undone at the top button, the damp collar slipping off one shoulder to reveal a bit of chest, and two faint rose-colored spots just visible above it. One sleeve hung loose, exposing only knuckles. The hem draped past his hips, landing just at mid-thigh. The curve traced the lines of his legs elegantly, before ending in comically oversized slippers.
Leonardo wiggled the wet trousers draped over his right arm and said dryly, “Do you really think I can wear these?”
Hugo paused, set aside his pen, and walked straight over to take the ill-fitting pants. “Why didn’t you dry your hair? You’ll catch a cold.”
“Ha? I’m a sentinel, not so easy to get sick,” Leonardo replied with a hint of irritation. He’d managed all these years without much trouble.
But Hugo couldn’t stand it. He laid down the pants, grabbed a towel, and patted the nearby chair to indicate Leonardo should sit. “Come here, let me dry it for you.”
“I—I can do it myself…” Leonardo’s voice wavered. He hesitated a few seconds before submitting to Hugo’s gentle authority and sat accordingly. Still, he attempted to tug at his sleeve, murmur a protest.
Hugo could easily imagine him giving his hair just a careless rub and calling it done, so he ignored the protest and gently wrapped the towel around the golden head, starting to dry it with soft strokes.
The soft hair gradually fluffed back to form, the nape of his neck wobbled forward before finally resting. Just as Leonardo’s head tipped forward, Hugo reached out and cupped his chin. His hand felt a faint tremble. Leonardo shivered slightly, his eyes flickered with mild surprise and lingering drowsiness.
Hugo withdrew his hand, laid the towel down, and softly tousled the dry hair. “Alright, bedtime.”
“Okay…” Leonardo muttered, awkwardly shaking his head before shuffling over to the bed. He tugged down the hem of the shirt, then climbed up and pulled the blanket neatly over himself.
A soft hum of amusement drifted from Hugo. Sensitive to sound, Leonardo shifted lower into the sheets and covered his face.
When he woke again, Leonardo felt a strong presence beside him.
He opened his eyes into dim light. Thin rays snuck through the curtains, hazily illuminating Hugo, lying to his right.
He blinked, still groggy from sleep, mind blank, and simply watched Hugo’s face. Under the soft glow, the man’s sharp features softened slightly, yet remained strikingly handsome.
Leonardo subtly stretched out his half-curled form and rose slowly. A glance at the clock showed he’d slept for over ten hours—longer than he had in ages. He felt lighter, more refreshed than ever. Could this also be the result of the guiding? He curled his fists lightly and rolled his shoulders, testing how his body felt,then looked up.
Only to meet a deep blue gaze head-on.
He jolted. Why did this man have to wake up so quietly?
Hugo sat upright and asked, “Awake? How do you feel?”
“...Pretty good. Feels like my body’s lighter.”
Hugo nodded. “Get up. I’ll take you to eat something.”
Leonardo crawled to the edge of the bed, glanced down at the now-obviously-too-small slippers, and slid his feet in. He lifted them, gave a little swing in the air, then let them drop to the floor with a soft thud. Stretching his limbs with a lazy sigh, he yawned.
His oversized sleeve slipped down past his fingers, exposing a pale wrist and a sliver of arm. The hem of his shirt swayed as he moved, riding dangerously high up his thighs. Hugo averted his gaze. “Your new clothes are on the nightstand.”
“Oh.” Leonardo picked up the neatly folded clothes. The fabric felt soft the moment he touched it, and once he shook it out for a look, the design struck him as exactly the kind of aesthetic he’d expect from Hugo. Still, it was acceptable, so he said nothing and headed toward the bathroom with the clothes in hand.
Then, the moment he stepped inside, his gaze landed on a glaringly bright yellow cup that stood out absurdly from the minimalist surroundings, complete with a grinning cartoon sun printed on it.
Leonardo reeled back instantly, stunned by the whiplash contrast between two clashing aesthetics. He picked up the cup in disbelief, turning it over in his hands, momentarily questioning Hugo’s taste—and then, quite suddenly, questioning what kind of impression Hugo had of him. Thoughts raced one after another, but in the end, faced with that radiant cartoon smile, he silently accepted it all.
After washing up, Leonardo changed into comfortable, well-fitted clothes. Hugo had also changed and gave him a pleased look.
They headed to the Tower restaurant for breakfast.
Once again they were greeted by many, and Leonardo bowed his head uncomfortably, staying close behind Hugo. Hugo lifted a hand and people stepped back, though Leonardo barely moved.
The restaurant spanned four floors. Hugo led Leonardo to the quietest, top floor and sat them in a secluded corner. Distinct from the casual feel of the first floor, this one resembled a high-end restaurant. Hugo explained that all floors were open to everyone. They just served different dishes, but fewer people tended to come up here.
The food arrived, presented as elegantly as in any restaurant, fragrant and inviting. Leonardo sniffed a roll of bread, the rich wheat aroma filled his senses. He swallowed and bit into it, his eyes lighting up. It was far better than any bread he’d tasted before—the sweet, soft crumb easily surpassed the hard rations he’d grown used to.
It felt like he was floating on a cloud of dough.
Hugo looked surprised behind his composed expression, clearly unprepared for Leonardo’s delight, or for even his ability to eat so much. Hugo gently slid another plate toward him and then more food flowed in. Without hesitation, Leonardo packed his mouth, cheeks bulging as he chewed vigorously.
He finished every dish, wiped his mouth, exhaled in contentment, and leaned into his chair, still floating on culinary bliss.
Hugo waited until he had floated for a while before speaking:
“One hour from now I’ll report on yesterday’s rampage and attend a meeting. I’ll be back by lunchtime. In the meantime, you’ll spend time with my adjutant learning sentinel basics. We’ll start formal guidance this afternoon.”
He reached out and offered his hand. Leonardo looked at Hugo’s blue gaze with a question. Hugo explained, “Hold my hand. Just a small guiding session to check your current condition.”
Leonardo placed his hand in it.
A thin stream of icy-blue energy circled in his devastated mental landscape, cleared a bit of debris, and withdrew. His mental state improved modestly, less so than after yesterday’s complete rebuild. Leonardo inwardly registered the change and felt a renewed anticipation for the afternoon guidance.
Not long after they got back to the room, a young man appeared at the door—only a year or two older than Leonardo—holding a book.
“Leonardo, this is my adjutant, Flynn Levernil,” Hugo introduced.
“Hello, Blaine! Pleasure to meet you.”
“Hello,” Leonardo replied.
Compared to Flynn’s warm friendliness, Leonardo’s tone was cooler, but Flynn didn’t seem bothered, as if he had expected it. He handed Hugo a sleek communicator, which Hugo tapped before passing it to Leonardo.
“This can contact me or Flynn. If anything happens, just press this call button. It’ll contact me directly.”
Leonardo tested the device briefly and slipped it into his pocket. Hugo checked his watch and reminded him to study while he went off.
The tall figure disappeared, and the golden gaze shifted to Flynn beside him.
Flynn handed over the thick book with a friendly smile.
Its plain, unadorned cover simply read Sentinel Handbook. Leonardo glanced at the title, then reached out to take it.
He didn’t actually mind learning. He had once studied in the middle of warzones, forced to learn whatever he could just to survive. Compared to that, reading some essential material in a peaceful environment hardly seemed like anything to complain about. But this was something else entirely—he barely flipped through two pages before the convoluted phrasing and endless, near-meaningless rambling started to get on his nerves.
Whoever wrote this should have called it a maze, not a guide.
He flipped to the copyright page—issued by Sentinel Tower. He didn’t know much about them, but at that moment, he was pretty sure they weren’t all that competent.
Flynn, noticing his reaction, spoke reassuringly: “Our lessons will be more streamlined. That book’s optional, refer to it if you like, but it’s dense.”
Leonardo nodded and tossed the book aside.
They spent the entire morning studying.
Despite his youth, Flynn taught with clear structure and approachable skill. Though Leonardo’s questions were rudimentary, Flynn answered them with patience and enthusiasm.
Slowly, Leonardo began to understand what "guiding" meant, and the significance of being SSS-level.
Flynn explained that physical-contact guiding consumes less energy and is more effective than longer-distance guiding. Normally, a guide holds a sentinel’s hand. Yesterday’s session worked only because Hugo’s energy was powerful enough to support it without contact. Guides and sentinels each have ranks: F to S, with the ultimate SSS.
A higher-level mind can overwhelm a lower-level one, but guides’ energies tend to be gentler and more controlled than sentinels’, so a high-ranking guide can manage a lower-ranking sentinel. However, the greater the difference in rank, the more difficult synchronization becomes. That’s why, in most cases, the level gap between a guide and a sentinel is limited to no more than two tiers. When a lower-level guide attempts to synchronize with a high-level sentinel, not only must they endure the overwhelming pressure of the other’s mental presence, but their energy output is often too limited to make a meaningful impact, especially given the vast scope of a high-level sentinel’s mental landscape.
For someone like Leonardo, an SSS-rank sentinel, even if a standard guide poured out all their strength, it would be like pouring a single cup of water into an endless desert—futile and barely perceptible.
“So that’s why Agrizendro said only he could guide me.” Leonardo nodded.
“Yes, our commander is the only SSS-level guide currently,” Flynn said proudly.
“What level are you?”
“I’m level A.”
“That’s still impressive.”
Flynn blushed but smiled brightly.
By midday the atmosphere had mellowed.
Leonardo sat cross-legged on the sofa, flipping through the Handbook and chatting with Flynn sporadically. He kept glancing at the clock.
Seeing him like this, Flynn said, “Maybe the meeting’s running long. That happens. They should be wrapping up soon.”
Leonardo said nothing. He set the book aside and stared at Flynn in silence, long enough to make him fidget. Then he smiled, eyes curving into a gentle arc.
Flynn turned red in an instant.
At that moment, Leonardo heard the sound of leather shoes approaching steadily. He turned toward the door. “Ah, he’s here.”
“What?” Flynn blinked in confusion and followed his gaze.
A few seconds later, Hugo pushed the door open, a bag in his hand.
“Commander!” Flynn sprang up.
Leonardo remained seated. Flynn gave a brief report, earned praise, then smiled as he greeted Leonardo and left the room.
Hugo met Leonardo’s eyes, set the bag down on the table and sat beside him.
“Looks like you two got along well,” Hugo observed, and pulled out several food boxes from the bag and arranged them neatly.
Leonardo stared at the boxes and replied with a low “Hmm.”
Hugo opened the lids to reveal steaming dishes and a beautiful chocolate cake emitting an irresistible aroma. “This is from a famed restaurant in the capital, and that’s a signature cake from a well-known dessert shop.”
Leonardo’s golden eyes locked onto the dark chocolate. Only when a bright silver fork was placed in front of him did he glance at Hugo.
“Did you get these?”
“No. I sent someone during the meeting break.”
“Why?” Leonardo asked. The food was tempting enough, but he didn’t understand why Hugo didn’t simply take him to the Tower restaurant—why order out?
After a brief, subtle pause, Hugo finally said, “…I just thought you’d like it.”
Leonardo didn’t say more. He narrowed his eyes in pure satisfaction and indulged in the delicious meal.
Hugo rested his chin on one hand and watched him eat. His expression barely changed, but for some reason, he seemed pleased. No, Leonardo was sure of it: with his sharp vision, he could clearly see the faint upward curve at the corner of Hugo’s lips. He was smiling.
After resting a bit, Hugo held out a hand.
Adam’s apple shifted slightly as he swallowed. Leonardo, a bit nervous, placed his much smaller hand into Hugo’s palm.
The guidance began.
2025.7.11
Chapter 3
Notes:
I was worried things were progressing too fast between them,
but then I saw Hugo being completely lovestruck in ch405 of the original and felt totally reassured—and happily let Hugo spoil Leo.
Went into way too much detail in places that didn’t need it...
I’m dying, I’m burnt out, it’s all a mess, what am I writing, uhahh...
Chapter Text
A sapphire eagle soared across the pale, ashen sky.
Its piercing cry rang through the heavens before it plunged downward, a streak of blue slicing through the dim earth below like a falling star. At the moment of impact, the mighty bird dissolved into a roaring column of water. Instead of shattering the fractured ground, the torrent surged into the broken crevices, filling the deep gouges and flowing outward to stabilize the fractured landscape.
Hugo guided the energy with precision, sending it deeper into the widest ruptures, smoothing over the finer cracks that webbed the surface.
He had expected Leonardo’s past would make it difficult for him to trust others, so he had prepared for a long, slow effort. Yet, to his surprise, Leonardo accepted him with unexpected ease, and with more trust than he had anticipated. Though Leonardo still watched everything he did inside the mental landscape, there was less wariness in his gaze now, more curiosity than caution. His mindscape, once locked down and bristling with defenses, had softened, revealing much of its outer layers. The suffocating pressure that once loomed had faded, and Hugo could finally rise high enough above it to view the mental terrain in its entirety.
Massive shattered walls and countless scattered fragments had stacked up into a warped, towering wreck. It was a twisted, unstable structure that couldn’t be dismantled carelessly, any wrong move might bring it all crashing down, worsening the damage. A precarious puzzle. But Hugo’s energy flowed like water: able to support chaos, to seep into the smallest cracks. He enveloped the ruin in his element, probing its inner workings before making a decision.
The current swirled gently beneath the jagged heap, stabilizing it. With deliberate motion, it lifted the scattered fragments into its flow, gathering them into a concentrated pool. The water pressure increased gradually, compressing the broken pieces of spiritual energy and reshaping them. Hugo paused at the faint sting that followed—small, subtle pulses of pain. He concentrated, feeling out each thread. But Leonardo showed no discomfort. In fact, his entire presence relaxed, watching the process with softened eyes, patiently awaiting the next step. The current pulsed again, then sank the reformed energy into the ground, merging it back into the foundations.
Water had flooded the entire world. It was as if it had always been an ocean, serene and beautiful. Mist drifted above the surface, forming a veil that shimmered and shifted like wings. From the haze rose white birds, startled by the ripples, scattering in flocks. They wheeled upward in spirals, circling a tower that now slowly emerged from the sea. Feathers brushed the sky, and pale blue light glimmered with every beat. In their ascent, the bleak sky faded into waves of vibrant blue.
The birds dissolved into the heavens.
As Hugo withdrew his power, he saw, far off in a lingering pocket of shadow, golden eyes staring toward the horizon.
He opened his own eyes.
And found those same golden eyes looking at him in the waking world, bright and gleaming with laughter.
"I’ve never felt this light before,” Leonardo said. “It’s like... like I suddenly came alive again. Thank you."
His red lips curved into a radiant smile. Joy, wonder, and gratitude bloomed in his voice, completely unguarded. His face glowed, his hand warm in Hugo’s own, and then his fingertips lightly trailed across Hugo’s palm, leaving a subtle tickle behind as he pulled away.
To trap that lingering warmth, Hugo curled his fingers inward and lowered his hand onto his thigh. His gaze never wavered from Leonardo’s smile. His tone remained calm.
"This is only the first guiding session. Your mental landscape is still in bad shape. But we’ll take it one step at a time. You’ll get better."
Leonardo made a dramatic face. “Do you think I’m a kid or something?” But the grin returned almost instantly. “I know.”
Hugo watched him, and smiled back.
Then, quietly, he said, “Leonardo.”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you. For trusting me.”
Leonardo’s eyes went wide, startled. For a moment he seemed unsure, panic, caught off guard. But then, just as quickly, he composed himself and let it slide, brushing off the moment as if it meant little. Still, Hugo caught the subtle tremor hidden in his voice.
So he reached out and gently patted Leonardo’s arm.
***
Leonardo’s days fell into a steady rhythm:
Study.
Guided calming sessions.
Interviews.
After all, Hugo had told him from the start that someone needed to be held accountable for the chaos caused by the rampage, so he cooperated fully. That said, the so-called “investigation” was so casual and relaxed, he wasn’t even sure if he was genuinely considered responsible. But since Hugo was the one handling it this way, he figured it must be fine. So he simply went along with it.
He sat cross-legged, half-buried in a sofa so soft it swallowed him whole, surrounded by pillows of varying shapes. On the table in front of him was a colorful platter of cakes—red strawberries, yellow cheesecake, white cream, and dark chocolate—each releasing its own sweet, tempting aroma. His sharp chin rested on a cushion, and his long fingers loosely held a silver fork, though his arm lay lazily across the pillow, unmoving.
Hugo reached for the plate, picked up the slice Leonardo had been eyeing, and brought it to his fork. Finally, Leonardo’s hand deigned to move. He lightly dipped the fork into the dark surface, digging out a bite-sized piece through the fine powder of cocoa dusted over the top. Using Hugo’s hand as a mobile table, he leaned forward and took the forkful of chocolate cake into his mouth.
The moment it touched his tongue, the silky smoothness melted instantly like satin, filling his mouth with a perfect blend of sweetness and bitterness that slid down his throat. The rich chocolate aroma wrapped around him, and even his whole body seemed to sway gently in response. The golden tuft of hair atop his head bobbed with him, catching glimmers of light as he contentedly closed his eyes and licked the fork.
“I don’t even know what the organization’s really called,” he began, seemingly out of nowhere. “I barely left the lab back then, and most of my time was spent on the borders. But their setup was very military, strict hierarchy, steady support. I’d say they’re probably connected to some power network in the shadows.”
Hugo had said he wanted to seek leniency for him and uncover the forces behind the incident, and sure enough, he had started asking about the organization. Leonardo didn’t hide anything. He was candid and cooperative.
He even offered his own guesses and analyses, though he didn’t have much concrete information. Still, he did his best to recall as many details as possible, hoping to offer Hugo something useful. After all, if someone as young as Hugo had risen to command such a powerful institution, the Guide Tower, he must be well-versed in navigating political intricacies, surely more than Leonardo could ever be.
And maybe... maybe it was the guided sessions. Or maybe it was Hugo’s unwavering sense of justice. But Leonardo truly believed he wanted to help him.
...Or perhaps he was just being blinded by that face?
He stared at Hugo, taking him in. Clean-cut, elegant, with sharp, defined features. Deep blue eyes like a calm sea. A prominent nose casting a soft shadow. Like something carved from marble, like a beautiful sculpture.
Yeah, he really was handsome. Leonardo absentmindedly bit his fork. Hugo was exactly his type.
“What’s wrong?” Hugo asked.
“Huh? Oh, nothing.” His drifting thoughts were yanked back to earth. He met Hugo’s concerned gaze and immediately looked away.
Obviously, it wasn’t “nothing.” But Hugo didn’t press, simply redirecting the conversation with his usual calm:
“Then let’s start today’s guidance.”
Leonardo placed the fork on the empty plate in Hugo’s large, steady hand. Somewhere between their idle chat and his mental detour, he had unknowingly finished the entire slice. He let the rich tang of strawberry linger in his mouth as he wiped his lips with a napkin Hugo handed him. Then he tossed it lightly onto the table, put aside the pillow, sat up straight, and took Hugo’s hand in his own.
After several guided sessions, his mental landscape had cleared considerably. Where once there had been chaos, there was now a semblance of order—enough to see a shape forming. Leonardo felt lighter by the day. His body more at ease. His mind consistently clear. Even the gazes of others didn’t seem to bother him as much anymore. He felt like he could embrace anything.
Yet Hugo still seemed to harbor some subtle concern. During their sessions, he would occasionally pause, as if checking something beneath the surface.
Leonardo had asked about it. Hugo had said that, since his mental state was on the verge of collapse, even small stimuli might cause pain or distress. That’s why he was being cautious. It sounded reasonable.
He had also asked Flynn, who told him that Guides sometimes paused mid-session to gauge the Sentinel’s condition via empathic feedback, especially in cases of severe mental disturbance. That too made sense.
And yet... Something still felt slightly off.
He couldn’t pinpoint why, and Hugo never said anything specific, only continued to monitor him closely.
Leonardo could sense the quiet consideration behind Hugo’s watchfulness. So he accepted it in silence, watching, observing, and sinking fully into the mental landscape.
The current was crystal-clear, cradling the disarray like a cherished treasure.
Hugo’s energy was just like him—calm, steady, powerful, with a quiet authority that brooked no defiance. Yet it wasn’t oppressive. It brought peace, softening the turbulence Leonardo had long endured.
He floated in that stream, swaying gently, as if returned to a cradle untouched by suffering. Then the sea that had fallen from the sky broke apart, scattering into birds that rose with his buried weight, carrying it home to the sky’s endless blue.
He looked up at the sky, distant and unreachable—only to feel it bow down, drawing near to meet him.
In the endless blue where sea met sky, a pair of eyes watched him gently. Within that blue gaze, he felt himself step out of a cramped, shadowed corner, and into a vast, open world that embraced him.
2025.7.18
Chapter 4
Notes:
The bizarre derailment of the plot: wanted to get straight to the comforting part, but it somehow turned into explanations and transition. Next chapter for sure.jpg
But now that it's come to this, might as well give Hugo a bit of a lashing.
I really love Hugo calls “Leo” and worries desperately about him.
I just want to see Hugo repent to Leo, bare his heart, and I'll keep poking at him with endless nitpicks. But why is it so hard to write? It's turning out so weird.
Chapter Text
The moment Leonardo woke, he could already sense the cold emptiness beside him.
His golden eyes snapped open. In one swift motion, he threw off the blanket, sat up, and landed soundlessly on the floor.
Lately, Hugo had been busy investigating the organization based on the intel Leonardo had provided. It seemed he had finally uncovered some traces of the power behind it. He was out more often now, leaving early and returning late, barely seen. Yet no matter how hectic things got, he would always make time to return and guide Leonardo, patiently easing his mind, then leave again in a hurry.
Leonardo noticed how tired he looked and once suggested that, since he’d been doing relatively well, there was no need for daily guidance. If Hugo was worried, he could just prescribe some stabilizers instead. But Hugo rejected the idea immediately, his tone unusually stern: “It’s not time to relax yet. And you absolutely cannot take stabilizers again.”
His voice was so heavy, it almost sounded angry. Leonardo instinctively flinched. Hugo quickly softened his tone.
“You’ve already built up resistance and toxicity from overusing them before. Taking more would do more harm than good. I told you, I’m responsible for helping you recover. So don’t worry.”
“Hmph... responsible, huh…”
The room was quiet, and even a whisper seemed to echo like thunder.
Leonardo slipped into his slippers and walked noiselessly to the large window. He pulled the curtains open, and sunlight spilled in, drenching him in gold. Wisps of cloud drifted lazily through the sky, scattered by a light breeze. What remained was a pure, clear blue. His golden gaze lowered slowly, watching the tiny figures of guides hurrying along the road below. His right hand rose unconsciously to press against his chest. He frowned slightly, then looked away and turned to wash up.
Later, sprawled lazily on the sofa, he idly flipped through his communicator, cycling aimlessly through its few interfaces. Finding it dull, he set it aside by his head and stretched over to grab the thick book left on the table. He lay back again.
His fingers slipped between the pages, opening it at random. He skimmed a few lines, then flipped ahead, then back again. Amid his careless flipping, a few lines suddenly caught his eye. He steadied the book, focusing on the text.
It reminded him of the past experiments.
Was this something all sentinels were supposed to know? Or…
Knock knock.
“Good morning, Blaine!”
Flynn entered with a warm, sunny smile. The restlessness that had begun to stir settled down again. Leonardo sat up and pointed to the paragraph.
“Is this something all sentinels have always known?”
Flynn leaned in. “Ah, the theory and training methods for sentinel enhancement? That was added a few years ago when the sentinel tower revised the Handbook. It was also made public, so it's pretty well-known now. A lot of sentinels go through that training. The results don’t quite match the theory, but it does help.”
“I see…”
“Are you thinking of enhancing your abilities?” Flynn asked, noticing his thoughtful look.
“Huh? No. I mean, I don’t mind getting stronger, but this wouldn’t help me.” Leonardo gave a casual smile, as if he’d just asked out of curiosity, then closed the book and tossed it back onto the table. “What are we learning today?”
Flynn gave him a glance, then looked at the book again. He didn’t press further and smoothly began the day’s lesson.
With so much on his plate, Flynn had to leave in the afternoon. He looked apologetic, clearly wanting to stay longer, but Leonardo assured him everything was fine and gently insisted he go take care of his backlog.
After Flynn left, Leonardo picked the thick Handbook back up and continued reading carefully.
The sun sank in silence. The golden light turned a deep crimson, staining the sky and trying to cast its glow across the land, only to be swallowed by encroaching shadows. Leonardo watched the last rays fade. Only then did Hugo finally return.
He looked no different than usual, but Leonardo noticed a subtle tension in his shoulders and neck.
After hanging up his coat, Hugo walked straight over and sat beside him. Leonardo reached out—not for his hand, but for the knot at his shoulder, gently kneading it.
Surprised, Hugo’s icy blue eyes seemed to thaw. He let out a soft breath, his tense muscles relaxing, and his expression softened. He raised a hand and gently cupped Leonardo’s, bringing it down slowly. But instead of beginning the usual guidance, he simply held Leonardo’s hand in both of his, as if preserving its warmth, or perhaps drawing warmth from it.
Gradually, Hugo’s usually cold hands grew warm. Too warm, in fact, hot enough that Leonardo’s fingers curled slightly.
Hugo immediately let go. Cool air slipped into the space between their palms, and guiding energy flowed into Leonardo in the same moment.
Leonardo was used to it by now. Guidance always felt good. But this time, even the refreshing energy couldn’t fully calm him, and the lingering warmth on his hand wouldn’t fade.
He tried to focus on the process. But the more he tried not to think about it, the more aware he became. A strange sensation crawled up from his palm, spreading through his body, leaving him uncomfortably restless. He bit his lower lip.
“What is it? Does it hurt?” Hugo asked, clearly worried. His grip tightened.
“No. It really doesn’t.”
Leonardo repeated it, but Hugo still watched him closely with concern, gently stroking the back of his hand. Leonardo hesitated but didn’t pull away.
What concerned him more was something else: Hugo wasn’t leaving this time.
“You’re not in a rush tonight?”
“I’m not going out again tonight.”
“You’ll be here until tomorrow?”
“At least until noon.”
Leonardo’s lips curved slightly, but he quickly suppressed it and put on a nonchalant expression. Catching sight of the Sentinel Handbook beside him, he remembered what he needed to say.
“Oh, right. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” He pulled his hand away, flipped to the marked page, and handed the book to Hugo. “I’m not sure, but… I have a feeling this theory from the Sentinel Tower might be related to the ability-enhancement experiments that organization used to run.”
Hugo’s blue eyes sharpened.
Leonardo had already reviewed the memory and compared it with the book that afternoon. Now, he calmly laid out his findings, point by point.
As Hugo listened, his expression grew increasingly solemn. After a brief pause to think, he stood up. Leonardo instinctively looked up at him, and Hugo looked down in return—his lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
In the silence, he stared at Leonardo for two seconds, then sat back down.
He pulled out his communicator, called someone, and ordered them to redirect the investigation toward the enhancement theory. Then he ended the call.
Once he put the device away, Leonardo finally asked, “Aren't you going?”
“No. Tomorrow is soon enough.”Hugo replied calmly.
Just moments ago, he had looked ready to head out. Now, he sat there without a hint of urgency, perfectly at ease. Even his tone, once sharp and official when he gave the order, had softened.
Leonardo pressed his lips together.
“As I said, I’ll be here until tomorrow noon.”
Leonardo could feel the warmth of Hugo’s thigh against his own. He shifted slightly, creating a bit of distance, and turned his head away.
“…Is it because of your duty?”
“What?”
“If this is just about duty, you don’t have to stay. Your duty is to monitor me and guide me, to help me stabilize. I won’t run off, and you’ve already done the guidance. You’ve fulfilled your obligation.”
“Leonardo.”
“You also have responsibilities as the guide tower commander. Investigating the truth behind this whole mess isn’t easy, you must have a lot to deal with. So you don’t need to stay here. You—”
“Leo!”
Hugo cut him off sharply, gripping his face with both hands, and forcing his drooping golden eyes to lift.
Startled, Leonardo froze, staring directly into Hugo's eyes.
They were a clear, oceanic blue, like a mirror of still water reflecting a single face.
His own face.
Was that the expression he had been making?
Was that really him?
Leonardo was confused, wanting to see more clearly, but shame exploded in him all at once, making him instinctively want to look away.
But the hands on his cheeks only pressed firmer, allowing no escape.
“Leo, look at me.”
His voice was calm but carrying an irresistible authority. Leonardo held his breath. His golden eyes quivered, then obeyed, meeting the blue gaze again.
“As you said, I do have duties and responsibilities to both you and the investigation. And yes, I’ve told you that before. But I can’t leave you alone—I don’t want to leave you alone.”
Leonardo listened, dazed.
“I know I haven’t been around lately, and I get it if you don’t believe me. I just wanted to finish this quickly, to catch the organization and the forces behind it. That’s my duty. But at the same time, I…”
Hugo paused, eyes shutting tightly. He took a deep breath, visibly holding himself back, then opened them again to meet Leonardo’s gaze.
“Every time I think about what you’ve been through, I feel a deep anger. I wanted to deal with those responsible right away. That was personal, and I never meant to let it affect you or the investigation. But it seems I did.”
“I just wanted things to be a little easier for you. I didn’t want you to suffer so much. I didn’t want to leave you alone, but in chasing the investigation, I ended up neglecting you. I didn’t consider how you felt. That was my fault. I’m sorry, Leonardo. I promise it won’t happen again.”
Leonardo was blank. He hadn’t expected Hugo to bare his heart so honestly, to speak of his private feelings beyond duty, or to apologize to him.
Before he could even begin to process it, Hugo went on.
“Maybe these words sound like excuses. Whether you accept them or not is up to you. But you don’t need to bottle things up anymore. If you’re angry, be angry. If you need something, ask me. Say whatever you want. Just don’t keep it all inside.”
The hand cupping his cheek shifted slightly, fingers brushing just beneath his eyes, as if easing the tension from his face. Leonardo looked at him, and saw the sea, deep and full of quiet waves.
“So you’re not staying just out of obligation.”
“Yes.”
“You really want to be here, with me.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not going to vanish all day anymore. You’ll stay with me more often.”
“Yes.”
Leonardo grabbed both Hugo’s hands, asking each question in turn. Hugo didn’t move, simply answering one by one.
Each reply was short but certain, calm and firm, sounding like a vow. Hard not to believe.
In the gentle blue, even the reflected image softened.
Hugo turned his hand over and clasped Leonardo’s, their fingers lacing together. Leonardo gave their joined hands a little shake, then spoke.
“Have you eaten? I haven’t had dinner yet. Will you come eat with me?”
He acted like none of that had just happened, but his voice was noticeably lighter than before. Hugo nodded quietly, kept holding his hand as they walked to the restaurant together.
Perhaps because of the hour, or maybe the mountain of work, there weren’t many people along the brightly lit road. But Leonardo found the quiet rather nice.
After eating, he suggested a walk. Hugo agreed again.
Hand in hand, side by side, they strolled under the lamps and stars. The evening breeze scattered idle chatter, carried away unrelated drifting thoughts, and left only peaceful silence. Leonardo deliberately stepped on a fallen leaf, the soft crunch blending with the steady rhythm of Hugo’s footsteps. He lingered a moment, nudging a few more leaves with his toe. Hugo, still holding his hand, came to a gentle stop as well, the dry leaves brushing against his shoes. But he only smiled, lifted his foot, and kept walking—bringing Leonardo with him.
They slowly made their way back, washed up, and lay down together.
Leonardo hadn’t seen Hugo beside him at bedtime in what felt like ages. He turned on his side, looking at the man lying flat on his back. From this angle, the lines of his lips were more distinct, his nose more defined, his lashes curved in perfect arcs.
Then the lashes fluttered, and blue eyes turned to meet his.
Their gazes held for a beat. Leonardo asked, “Can I come closer?”
Hugo turned on his side and lifted his arm. Leonardo scooted over at once, rolling straight into the open embrace. He pressed his forehead lightly against the firm chest, and with the man’s scent in his breath and arms around him, he quietly closed his eyes.
2025.7.29
Heltica on Chapter 3 Tue 22 Jul 2025 12:07AM UTC
Last Edited Tue 22 Jul 2025 12:08AM UTC
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Taschulya on Chapter 3 Wed 23 Jul 2025 02:30AM UTC
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Heltica on Chapter 4 Wed 30 Jul 2025 05:17AM UTC
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Taschulya on Chapter 4 Thu 31 Jul 2025 02:46PM UTC
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