Arcadia Chapter 2.7

Van had truly had enough. The rudeness of barging into his home uninvited, the attitude of slipping away like an eel whenever asked a question, and even the senselessness of shoving Dia, who he had raised so preciously and tenderly. In other words, he had scraped together a speck of patience and endured it all.

Gritting his molars, Van pried Dia’s arms from where they were wrapped tightly around his waist. Even as he heard the approaching footsteps, Wayne leisurely flipped through the last few pages of the journal.

“The next day, you pretended not to know. Like that…”

“Hey.”

Van placed his hands on the desk and leaned down to meet Wayne’s eyes.

“Those few mistakes, what are you trying to do with them now? What, do you miss it?”

He put on a face full of ridicule, but the veins on the hand gripping the desk stood out. The past he wished he could not just forget, but burn, had been left behind in Cancún long ago. Moreover, in all the time they’d crossed paths, Wayne had never once, not a single word, mentioned what happened that day. Which meant it wasn’t something to be brought up now.

Wayne, who had been meeting his gaze blankly, gave an ambiguous smile and closed the file folder.

“You make a lot of mistakes.”

The light scoff that landed on him provoked his temper. Suppressing his anger, Van looked behind him. Dia, who had finally come closer, hesitantly tugged on his sleeve. Van pushed the small back, urging him to go inside the glass wall, but Dia shook his head vigorously, hugged his thigh, and then rested his chin on Van’s hipbone.

Wayne shot a peculiar look at Dia, who was stuck fast to his thigh, and proceeded to dredge up one by one the old stories that Van despised with a passion.

“Once is a mistake. I keep getting confused because you ignore me so much, but maybe…”

“Shut your mouth…”

Horrified, Van quickly covered the child’s ears with his palms. Witnessing this, Wayne let out a wheezing laugh.

“Is that really necessary? It’s not like it’s something we can’t talk about.”

“It is something we can’t talk about, you son of a bitch.”

Van bit his lower lip so hard that blood rushed to it.

It had been a mistake. He had a tendency to become excessively magnanimous whenever he drank, and that bastard had just happened to be around when he did.

Anyone would suffer a mental shock if they woke up in the morning to find a colleague whose name they barely knew lying naked beside them, with a crude pain between their buttocks.

The same thing had been repeated every day he drank after that, but anyway, it was truly a mistake. Three times at most. Absolutely, never more than that. Van had no choice but to deny it over and over.

“Let’s just pretend it never happened. I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember? Then why did you avoid me?”

Wayne’s voice, clinging to him like a rabid dog, echoed through the basement. Starting to feel light-headed, Van squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them.

“…Just give me Michel’s contact info. It’s urgent.”

Michel was the only way to get out of this fucking situation. He had to kick Wayne out, even if it meant throwing a tantrum or playing dead. If he worked with him, he might end up by his parents’ side before long. The cause would probably be a stress-induced illness.

“I asked why you avoided me, why are you changing the subject?”

In many ways, Wayne was a man immune to Van’s tricks. Van wanted to scream, but he scraped together every last shred of his reason and suppressed his emotions. As a result, his voice came out ragged and torn.

“Do you really want to die?”

“Can you even win?”

Van, flaring up, tried to take a step, but with Dia clinging to his thigh, the most he could do was grab his collar. Wayne, his collar grabbed again, sneered as if he’d been waiting for it.

“From what I saw then, you couldn’t even use your strength properly.”

“Ha, haha… This son of a bitch…”

Van let out a hollow laugh, but his ears quickly turned bright red. He was suddenly reminded of the shotgun sleeping soundly in the storage shed. He’d meant to take it out because the neighborhood seemed dangerous, but had forgotten until now. It seemed like the time had come to get it.

If I just kill this bastard now and dump him in the forest, some unknown murderer will take the blame, and I can clear away my embarrassing past… It wasn’t a bad plan.

Taking advantage of the opening when his strength drained from his futile fantasizing, Wayne shook off his hand and started to walk. The man, who had stepped inside the glass wall, started kicking at the dolls scattered on the floor. How could a human being be so contemptible and rude? He wanted to repeatedly punch the back of the head that was so perfectly composed after grating on his nerves as much as possible. Just when every single one of his actions was getting on his nerves, a soft, beautiful voice tickled his ear.

“…Van.”

Only then did Van snap back to his senses. He quickly lifted Dia’s clothes to check the child’s condition. Thankfully, there wasn’t a single scratch on the million-dollar, no, the delicate child’s skin. Setting aside his worries, Van tried to accept the disastrous situation, ruffling Dia’s feathery hair with his hand to mean there was no need to worry.

His words had said he’d kill him, and his heart felt the same, but the reality was despairing. He didn’t know the full story, but if it was true that Michel had hired Wayne, it would be more beneficial to keep him around. For some reason, that bastard seemed to have far more information than he did. He knew the right thing to do was to coax the information out of him, but… He knew, but.

“I hate that bastard so much…”

Van abruptly hugged Dia, buried his face in his small shoulders, and whined.

Don’t remember, my ass. The memory of all the disgraceful things he’d done—things that made his antics for the camera seem tame—was vivid. He remembered whining that it hurt, crying when told to laugh, and then laughing through his tears. The memories came rushing back, making him want to just drop dead.

As he calmed his impulse, receiving Dia’s pats on his back in comfort, a soft breath touched his earlobe.

“Why did you do that?”

“What?”

When he lifted his buried head, he saw a sorrowfully contorted face. Dia withdrew the hand that had been patting his back and gently pinched the tip of his nose.

“Don’t do that anymore. It’s upsetting.”

The playful gesture, which had become a habit while raising the child, was now returned to him in full. Van stared blankly at Dia, who was trying to nag him just because he’d grown a little, and asked.

“Do you even know what you’re talking about?”

He had covered his ears, but even if he had heard everything, Dia was still too young to understand the adults’ conversation. Sure enough, he couldn’t answer. Dia rolled his greenish eyes back and forth, then opened his red lips slightly.

“I know what I need to know.”

“You know nothing… For now, just comfort me. Take my side.”

As he grumbled and hugged Dia tight enough to suffocate him, a quiet comfort flowed out.

“I’m always on your side, Van.”

Though it was just an empty phrase, it was quite reassuring. It would have been even more reassuring if it had come from a muscular giant who could avenge this humiliation, rather than a small, delicate, and merely pretty child.

Clutching Dia’s head tightly, who was suppressing his anger with a thimbleful of reason, Van glared intently beyond the glass wall. His green eyes swept down from the top of Wayne’s head, which was so high up his own crown wasn’t visible, to his thick arms and long legs. His descending gaze landed on his own palm patting Van’s head.

“It’s small.”

Van, who had been trying to figure out what to do with Wayne from now on, lifted his head. An endlessly young face was reflected in the light-colored eyes that blinked, uncomprehending. To Van, who asked, “What is?” Dia held out both of his open hands.

“My hand.”

“Let’s see.”

Dia’s hand came to rest in his palm. Placing his palm against Dia’s, Van looked down seriously at the short hand whose fingertips barely brushed the first knuckle of his own fingers.

“It is small.”

Dia, wrinkling his nose as if displeased, slid his fingers between Van’s and intertwined them. Van, feeling a growing pressure in their linked fingers, was about to call Dia’s name when a fluffy pink stuffed doll flew over and smacked him on the head. Smack.

“Is this the time to be flirting?”

As Wayne’s reprimand, who never knew how to speak kindly, was heard, the composure he had just regained began to waver.

Wayne, who had knocked the hand held with Dia’s away with the doll, dumped a heap of toys he had brought out in his arms onto the desk.

“Are you raising a kid? What is all this?”

“Then is he a kid, or does he look like an old man to you? Don’t throw them.”

Moving a toy car that had almost rolled off to a safe place, Van glared at Wayne before turning his gaze to the glass wall. The fact that the one who had been constantly watching Dia—or more accurately, him taking care of Dia—had been Wayne, was more than enough to make his blood boil, but his visit wasn’t all bad.

Now he could raise Dia in the light. No matter how he thought about it, the gloomy atmosphere of the basement couldn’t be good for a child’s emotional development. Even if Wayne tried to stop him, Van intended to have his own way on this matter. He couldn’t miss the opportunity he’d been eyeing ever since he was certain there was no danger to Dia.

Wayne, who had been glancing at the side of Van’s face as he swept the scattered toys into a box to clear out the basement, poked his busy hand with the doll he was holding.

“I’m telling you because you don’t seem to know, but this isn’t a person.”

“I took him out, how could I not know?”

“It doesn’t look like you know.”

“Mind your own damn business.”

Van snatched the doll from Wayne’s hand vexatiously. They should just do their own jobs; his meddling was on another level. Just as he was busily moving to finish organizing the toys, the warmth that had been stuck fast to his thigh was roughly torn away.

“Van…!”

Wayne, who had suddenly grabbed Dia by the scruff of his neck, strode away with large steps. The small body was dragged along behind him. Van, realizing the situation belatedly, quickly followed, raising his voice.

“Let go, you crazy bastard!”

He reached for the child, but before he could even grab his collar, Wayne threw Dia through the entrance of the glass wall. When he removed the metal plate that had been propping the door open to prevent it from closing automatically, the door that had been wide open for weeks slid shut. Thud. His heart sank as he saw Dia, who had fallen on the slippery floor, struggle to push his upper body up.

“You crazy son of a bitch…!”

Shoving Wayne, who was blocking the door, aside, Van hurriedly pressed the keypad. He swore to himself that he would take care of Dia first and then beat the hell out of him. He pressed the last number, but only a beeping sound was heard and the door wouldn’t open. Dia, who had managed to get up, came over and knocked on the glass. He checked on the child while pressing the password again. 1225. It was the same. It didn’t open.

“What is this?”

“I changed it. Just now.”

Just as he thought the monotonous voice, as if it held the cynicism of the entire world, sounded too close, a heavy part of a body that shouldn’t have been touching him rubbed against his butt. It took him a moment to grasp the situation. As the pale-faced Van’s eyes widened, an arm reached out from behind, wrapped around his body, and stood pressed against him. Wayne’s unfamiliar body heat covered his back as he rested his chin on his shoulder.

“The kid’s gone, shall we catch up, just the two of us?”

It was the kind of thing a married couple might say after finally putting their child to sleep. Van looked down at Dia, whose eyes were wide open, and tried with all his might to suppress the seething rage that was boiling inside him. He pressed the password he knew again with trembling fingers, but of course, it didn’t open. He ground his teeth and muttered under his breath.

“Move your fucking dick and tell me the password.”

“Should we do it in front of him? Got to give him some sex ed early.”

It was embarrassing to admit, but Van was a man far from having principles, integrity, or abstinence. He was a magnanimous man who wasn’t incapable of doing that in front of others. However, he wasn’t so senseless as to display such disgraceful behavior in front of a young child, and Wayne had already crossed the line more than enough.

Van squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them, raised his elbow, and slammed it down into Wayne’s side. The hard muscle struck by his elbow contracted sharply, and Wayne fell away with a groan. He immediately lifted his foot to kick him, but a hand shot out in an instant and grabbed his ankle.

“Ugh!”

Losing his balance and falling, Van hit the back of his head on the glass and barely managed to block the fist that Wayne, who had climbed on top of him, threw. His head, which had taken a sudden impact, rang like a bell, but he was just as furious.

Grabbing Wayne’s shoulders, Van put strength into his core and rolled his body over. In an instant, their positions were reversed. Van ignored his dizzying vision and raised his arm. Without giving him a chance to block, he struck Wayne’s sharply angled jaw. The blood that had dripped from the back of his hand left a messy mark under Wayne’s chin.

“Did you miss me that much? So much you couldn’t forget?”

Van forced the corners of his stiff lips to pull up.

“If you get on your knees and beg, I might let you stick it in once.”

Tilting his head to the side, Wayne spat out the blood that had pooled in his mouth again and let out a short laugh.

“If you’re so confident, then try it.”

“Of course I’m confident.”

Van laughed along and slammed his fist down with enough force to satisfy Wayne. Starting with Van’s punch, the two men began to fight, tumbling over and over. Van, who had charged in like a scrapper and gained the upper hand, grabbed Wayne’s neck with both hands and pressed down with his weight.

He could ignore his ragged breath and heaving chest, but his dizzy head made his upper body sway. His cheek was red enough that a dark bruise would soon form, and every time he opened his split lip, he could taste blood.

“The password.”

Wayne’s face, who was breathing just as heavily as Van, was also a mess. As if he had no more will to fight, Wayne lay spread-eagled and drew an arc with his torn lips. Intoxicated with victory, Van failed to interpret the unknowable smile and jumped up with a start.

“Agh!”

Wayne’s large hand had squeezed the butt of Van, who was straddling his stomach, before letting go. Horrified, Van hastily rolled off to put distance between himself and Wayne. Glancing at Van’s expression, which was becoming tinged with shock and shame, Wayne chuckled through his blood-soaked lips.

“Four zeros. Isn’t that the default?”

“This crazy, son of a bitch…”

Hearing the unexpected password, Van’s lips quivered. Wayne’s gesture of jutting his chin as if to tell him to hurry up and try it was enough to leave him dumbfounded.

“What the hell is wrong with you…?”

Telling him to do this, then telling him to do that, then calling it all off and refusing to back down. With Van’s way of thinking, he just couldn’t keep up with him. It was so unnerving that he even began to doubt if the man was sane.

Van, who had been glaring at him with intensity, groaned and got to his feet. His body, which had been in a scuffle for the first time in a long while, ached beyond words. As he managed to straighten his stiff back, a belated answer flowed from Wayne’s lips.

“Because I was bored.”

“You’re so full of shit, seriously…”

When he pressed the password, the door opened anticlimactically. Van, catching Dia as he darted out, made a sound like he was at death’s door. As he rested his forehead against the child’s warm chest, a wave of relief washed over him along with a brief ringing in his ears.

Dia stared blankly at Wayne, who was still lying on the floor, then hugged Van’s head to his chest. Wayne, observing the gesture that seemed to be claiming him as his own, snorted. He might be overjoyed now, but that wouldn’t last long. Dia’s growth was faster than any other specimen’s, and therefore, he would abandon his host faster than any other specimen.