Passion: Diaphonic Symphonia Novel - Chapter 19

Ilay’s words dropped coldly from his lips.

A sudden urge to get up from the bench and run a hundred miles away surged through him like a storm, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it and only scooted back an inch.

Well, that’s certainly something to congratulate him on, Jeong Taeui muttered, bowing his head.

He suddenly wondered if it was truly something to congratulate that lover who was living with him. A feeling washed over him as if he had sacrificed himself to save someone. He felt a little proud, but it soon turned to emptiness.

In the midst of this, Richard, seemingly oblivious to the strange silence, continued to climb the summit of doting fatherhood, smiling all the while.

“Among the children who became succession candidates this time, he was the youngest, so I was quite worried, but fortunately, he seems to be getting along well with the children. He was always a child who got along well with his friends, but still, I’m relieved.”

He seems affectionate and warm, but I didn’t think he was the doting parent type… Jeong Taeui thought to himself, agreeing with Richard’s words.

However, he could understand the pride in his child.

After all, to parents, their children are like extensions of themselves, and how much more so for such a kind and intelligent child.

Jeong Taeui nodded, then suddenly thought of Christoph.

So beautiful and intelligent, surely he too must have been a proud son—well, considering his personality, he had some doubts, but at least when he was young, he must have been—and this time, if he were to have children in the future, they would undoubtedly be unbearably adorable.

And yet.

Even as he thought such thoughts, he always seemed to be alone.

Always with a blank expression, as if everything was meaningless and tiresome.

“…If he had a child…”

Would he change? That unsettling and anxious feeling he couldn’t quite place.

But he didn’t think so. He was different at a more fundamental level. In what way, and how?

Jeong Taeui silently looked down at his feet.

“Would you like to have a child?”

Just then, a low voice unexpectedly dropped from not far away.

Jeong Taeui, who had been spacing out for a moment, suddenly snapped to attention and raised his head.

A few steps away, Ilay was looking down at Jeong Taeui.

Jeong Taeui waved his hand, saying, “No.” He had been thinking about Christoph for a moment, and his thoughts had somehow drifted that far.

“That’s not it, I don’t dislike children, but—”

“It varies from person to person, but I would recommend it.”

Richard chimed in. A smile played around his eyes, as if the thought of his son alone filled him with love.

“You don’t seem to have much thought about it, do you?”

Richard asked Ilay, and then, for a brief moment, looked as if he regretted saying it. It seemed he couldn’t imagine Ilay becoming a father.

Yeah, I can’t imagine it either, Jeong Taeui thought, glancing at Ilay. He shook his head, saying, “Not really.”

“I haven’t thought about it, so there’s nothing to like or dislike.”

“Hmm. Is the person you’re living with the same? It’d be difficult if you two didn’t agree on the matter of children.”

While Richard spoke to Ilay, Jeong Taeui was filled with a sense of profound emotion.

He wondered when he would ever again see Ilay engage in such an everyday conversation with someone. As far as Jeong Taeui had heard, most of Ilay’s conversations with others were about work or social affairs. They were rather stark and dry conversations.

But to hear such a conversation, so closely tied to daily life, was incredibly fresh and even moving.

Because of this, Jeong Taeui didn’t realize for a moment that Ilay’s gaze had been lingering on his face.

“A child… Well, even if she wanted one, I don’t really…”

“Haha, what would you do if she went and got one from someone else? I actually had a friend who experienced that.”

“Go and get a child from someone else? …I don’t like that.”

Ilay mumbled slowly.

Only then did Jeong Taeui’s mind gradually return to the content of the conversation.

Children or not, it was irrelevant unless they were involved with different partners. As for marriage, if absolutely necessary, they could always go to a country where same-sex marriage was allowed—though the thought of Ilay marrying someone sent shivers down his spine—but a child was impossible without adoption.

And actually, even if Jeong Taeui liked children, it didn’t necessarily mean he wanted his own.

It doesn’t really matter, Jeong Taeui mumbled, scratching his head. But he felt that if he stepped in here and said anything, he would just look ridiculous, so he decided to keep quiet.

“Rather than going somewhere else to get a child…”

Ilay trailed off, lost in thought for a moment. His gaze, which had been wandering in the air, subtly flickered back to Jeong Taeui’s face, and Jeong Taeui unconsciously rubbed his suddenly chilling arms.

“I don’t know how long it will take, but it would be better to keep trying until we have a child.”

Ilay concluded calmly. The moment he finished speaking without a flicker of his eyes, Jeong Taeui froze on the spot.

Trying what?

It’ll never happen, even if you try all your life.

A disturbing thought suddenly came to his mind. That man approaching, saying, let’s try until we have a child.

In an instant, the blood drained from his head to his toes.

“No, but—first, you should ask about such things before doing them. And who knows, maybe the other person definitely doesn’t want a child.”

Jeong Taeui quickly cut into their conversation.

Richard looked somewhat puzzled at Jeong Taeui, who had been quietly listening but suddenly interjected with such fervor, but he soon nodded in agreement. Ilay, who had been staring down at Jeong Taeui intently from beside him, smiled faintly.

Jeong Taeui smoothed down his chest, which was pounding with anxiety and fear, and nodded profusely, saying, “Right, right.”

Richard, who looked at Jeong Taeui strangely once more, then spoke to Ilay as if the thought had just occurred to him.

“But I was surprised that you’re living with someone else. I really never thought you’d have such a person in your life.”

“Coincidence. I never thought so either.”

“Right, now that I think about it, I forgot to ask to see her face when I visited recently. Introduce me next time.”

“I will.”

Listening to their friendly conversation, Jeong Taeui somehow felt like needles were sprouting from the bench under his backside. Moreover, he was anxious about when another terrifying topic might pop up. So, he finally couldn’t bear it and subtly stood up.

“Well, I’ll be going then… Please send my regards to your adorable son later.”

“Yes, I will. Oh, come to think of it, I’ve been meaning to ask your name…?”

Only upon hearing Richard’s words did Jeong Taeui recall that he had never introduced himself. He thought for a moment, uh, and realized he hadn’t told him his name. He’d talked to him a few times, but why didn’t he remember telling him his name? As he thought about it—

“Father!”

Ah, right, right. This was why he couldn’t speak. Whenever he tried to say something, there was always an interruption.

Jeong Taeui turned his head towards the direction of the suddenly interjecting voice. The boy he had seen earlier, looking exactly like Richard, was running towards them. Behind him, three or four more children were coming out of the entrance at the western side of the main building. The last one to emerge was Christoph, looking displeased as he watched them.

“What are you doing here?”

Christoph approached, not even glancing at Richard, but staring directly at Jeong Taeui. He did cast a brief look at Ilay, but it was fleeting.

Come to think of it, weren’t these two friends too? Former colleagues?

“Huh? Oh, I was just resting.”

“You brought me books and you’ve been here for two hours straight?”

Jeong Taeui paused for a moment. He couldn’t be bothered to imagine what Christoph would say if he admitted to having sat there for two hours staring at the sky and ground, so he mumbled evasively.

“No, I went to my room, read a bit, and just came out.”

“…From the second floor of the main building, this entire area is visible.”

At the words, accompanied by a chilly gaze, he flinched and looked at the main building. Indeed, the room at the far western end of the second floor of the main building, where Christoph and the children had been, was almost directly visible from here.

“Oh… you saw?”

“I was watching to see when you’d disappear. You just sat there spaced out the whole time. Even with your shoelaces untied.”

Why was he watching that? No, more importantly, what’s wrong with sitting there spaced out? Jeong Taeui mumbled to himself, then suddenly tilted his head.

“You watched very closely…”

Only then did he notice his untied shoelaces and crouched down, grumbling as he retied them.

Then, suddenly feeling a gaze burning on the top of his head, he looked up to see Ilay staring down at him. His crossed arms, his fingers, tapped, tapped his forearm.

I find it scary when that guy does that, Jeong Taeui thought, and above his head, as he tied his shoelaces, Christoph’s icy gaze was fixed on Richard.

“Why are you bothering this guy? What’s your game?”

His tone was calm but rough. Jeong Taeui mumbled from behind him, “No, I just greeted him…” but Christoph acted as if he hadn’t heard.

“Is asking for a name a game too?”

Richard replied nonchalantly. However, the usual smile on his face was, unusually, absent. His face was still quiet and gentle, but his eyes were cold.

Indeed, it seemed their relationship was truly bad. He realized it again.

“It is a game. Why would you need to ask his name when you have no business calling him?”

Christoph cut him off sharply, but Richard seemed to have decided to ignore him. He turned his head to look at Jeong Taeui.

“So, what should I call you?”

Jeong Taeui was silent for a moment.

Richard had completely turned his head away from Christoph and was facing Jeong Taeui, and over his shoulder, Ilay was looking their way, seemingly lost in thought, while beside him, Christoph had a vein throbbing on his forehead.

The atmosphere was incredibly chilly, but he couldn’t just stay silent and make the other person look foolish, so Jeong Taeui smacked his lips and scratched his head.

“Ah… I’m, I’m—”

“Annoying.”

Christoph spat out. He said it in the same tone he used when he called that name “annoying,” and looked at Jeong Taeui with the same face. Jeong Taeui stared back at Christoph with his mouth open.

He really finds fault with other people’s names a lot.

Jeong Taeui smacked his lips again, which he had just opened. A bitter taste lingered.

“Kim… Youngsoo.”

As he said that name, Jeong Taeui tried his utmost not to look at Ilay’s face. He didn’t want to think about what Ilay would think or what expression he would make upon hearing that name, and he didn’t want to see it either. Bitter memories from the past resurfaced.

Right, there was a reason I used this name. But come to think of it, this name wasn’t exactly lucky either. I got caught in the end.

However, even though he deliberately avoided looking directly at Ilay and kept his gaze fixed on Richard, he could see Ilay subtly tilting his head in his peripheral vision. He could also see his shoulder slightly shaking, as if letting out a snicker. Damn it.

Christoph silently came to Jeong Taeui’s side. Then he turned to face Richard and Ilay.

In a stance as if confronting each other, Jeong Taeui alone felt intensely uncomfortable with the situation.

Amidst the silence and intersecting cold gazes, Jeong Taeui pondered where to look, then suddenly saw Ilay, who was standing a step back behind Richard.

He was lost in thought. With a blank expression, he gazed at Christoph, his crossed arms, his fingers tapping slowly on his arm. It was impossible to tell what thoughts were going on behind that expression.

But this dramatic confrontation, it was like…

“It looks like some kind of 2-on-2 deathmatch.”

He mumbled it out before he could stop himself.

Two men facing each other in direct confrontation. And two men standing slightly apart to their sides and behind them, taking their sides.

In the quiet, his voice seemed to have echoed louder than he expected, and the expressions of the men who had been glaring intensely changed subtly.

Christoph looked at Jeong Taeui with an expression like someone who had drunk water only to find out it was alcohol. Richard, though not quite as pronounced, looked at Jeong Taeui with a similar expression. Only Ilay had turned his head the other way. But even so, his shoulder was visibly shaking slightly.

Jeong Taeui clicked his tongue and shrugged. Since the words were already out, there was no way to take them back now.

“Instead of always getting flustered whenever you meet, why don’t you just have one big fight and settle it, huh? …Sir.”

Jeong Taeui, who spoke the first part to Christoph and the last syllable to Richard, added, “Wouldn’t that be better?”

Silence followed.

Someone, anyone, should say something, but everyone remained silent. Jeong Taeui awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“—If a fight were to break out now, with the succession selection approaching, it wouldn’t be good for Richard. Christoph might have given up the succession, but Richard hasn’t.”

The one who offered a slow explanation was Ilay.

He took a step and stood beside Richard, glancing at Christoph. Christoph, for some reason, said nothing.

“If they were going to fight, that’s what they should have fought over. Who would succeed—but Christoph was the first to give up that fight. They had been evenly matched until he declared he was giving up the succession.”

Ilay, who had spoken calmly and indifferently, paused. Then he raised his head, looked at the sky, thought for a moment, and then looked at Christoph.

“I’m still curious, now that I think about it. Why did you do that? Well, thanks to you coming to T&R, I’ve been somewhat comfortable.”

“It’s my business. None of yours.”

Christoph said coldly. Ilay showed no sign of being offended. “Right,” he nodded, then suddenly asked again.

“And you, who hadn’t visited Dresden at all after that, specifically returning at this point… Ah, I think I get it.”

“Shut up, Riegrow.”

“It’s not me who’s loud, it’s your ears. Or your brain. You lunatic.”

Jeong Taeui quietly rolled his eyes at the harsh words exchanged in such a nonchalant tone.

He had heard that these two were friends and colleagues, and thought they were very close—which had horrified him just a while ago—but looking at them now, it didn’t seem that way at all. Perhaps there had been misinformation floating around.

Well, neither of them has the personality to have friends anyway, Jeong Taeui conceded to himself, then the next moment, his lips twisted.

The expression had vanished from Christoph’s face. It wasn’t his usual blank expression. Even his usual boredom and weariness were gone. It was just a ghostly blankness.

But it was only for a moment.

Christoph, who had been staring at Ilay with such a blank expression, slowly closed and opened his eyes at some point. Then annoyance settled over his face. Finally, rough words burst out.

“Why don’t you stay cooped up in the East Wing? Why are you loafing around the West Wing, poking your nose in? I told you I don’t like talking to you because it feels like I’m still in that damn mobile unit.”