Chapter XLVIII: Forbidden

Winter break felt like a blur. Not in the sense that it went by quickly—in fact, it felt quite sluggish for Ren. His stay at the Tao manor was just as he had expected. He hardly saw any of his family, not even Jun. And while his family did gather for his birthday dinner, conversations were basically made up of him and his sister reporting their current status in school and work, and their father shortly commenting his acknowledgment. Everything else about his stay was too slow and uneventful to be worth remembering. So winter break was a blurry memory to look back to, and it barely felt real. The reality of it only sank in when he returned to school.

Like the rest of the third-years that have officially gotten started on their free attendance, Horokeu wasn't going to be showing up to his classes. Ren only realized this when he arrived to first period's classroom. And to make matters worse, one classmate actually attempted to sit next to him. When he pulled the chair out from the desk, Ren didn't even turn his head to directly look at him. He simply shifted his piercing eyes and that was enough. After that, no one dared to take the seat next to him. Not that an empty seat made it any better.

Ren still went to the greenhouse after school to do his homework—even though he'd be the only one there. But despite his intentions, all the homework strewn in front of him was doing no good. Yet he didn't have much of anything else to distract him. So he had nothing better to do other than stare outside and recall the only eventful part of his so-called break. He hated that he couldn't stop thinking about it but there was nothing keeping his mind from going back to it. Even though it was such a disaster, all he could do was endure how memorable it was. And the blunette's current absence was just another reality to endure. Sitting in this greenhouse was like rubbing salt into a fresh wound but he didn't care. He endured that too. Because despite everything that's happened, everything the bluenette made him feel, how it felt just to sit in this greenhouse... Ren missed him. He still missed him so much that he's trying to hold on to whatever he does have left. All the memories, even the ones that were still so painfully raw to him.

Because what else do I have left?

Ren pressed together the back of his teeth like he's afraid he'd say it out loud. As if he really believes not hearing himself say it would actually prove anything. What did he have to prove, anyway? He felt like nothing. He was supposedly the heir to one of the most powerful clans anyone could ever know... and it felt like nothing. He felt like nothing. So hopeless. So powerless. So defeated in a battle that no one even knew about—that no one will ever know about. And a battle for what? A boy who won't even choose him? A boy Ren shouldn't be choosing because he's male? Because they're both supposed to choose some...some girl?! Is that why it felt so humiliating? Why he felt so defeated? Is that why he couldn't win?

So would Ren have stood a chance if he were female?

Would it have been easier? Would he have been allowed to choose him then? Would he have been chosen then? What if Horokeu got him pregnant? What if those few times they forgot to use protection—

"Shit...What the fuck am I thinking?" Ren cursed and held his head in his hands, shutting his eyes to the shame that washed over him. What is wrong with me?! He clenched his jaws on the question he didn't want to ask out loud. He didn't want to hear himself ask it.

And then he flinched to what he heard instead. It sounded like the green house door. His amber eyes opened to the sound of the door now being shut. He lifted his head to the sound of footsteps. Ren whipped his head around to where he now heard those footsteps arriving.

His fluttering heart dipped into what felt like empty shadows when Hao emerged from behind tall plants.

"Yeah, sorry, it's just me." Hao scoffed at Ren's unfiltered disappointment.

"...What're you doing here?" Ren muttered and rolled his eyes. He didn't mean to show his regret for how much he anticipated seeing someone else. But he wasn't going to apologize for it either.

"Checking up on you, obviously."

"Why?"

"Because A) Lyserg's worried about you and wants me to make sure you're ok. And B) I don't blame him since you're so bad at hiding it."

"Well, tell him he has nothing to worry about." Ren turned away from Hao to stare outside the glass again. A subtle demand for the brunette to go away and leave him alone.

"That'd be a lie." Hao sighed patiently and walked up to lean against the same glass so Ren knew he wasn't leaving. "And why lie about it? You don't have to hide it, Ren. At least not around us. Not around me." Ren wasn't prepared for how gently he'd say that.

"But I—" Ren stopped to suck in a breath, to steady his voice that he felt was about to crack. "I should've known."

"Should've known what? Better?" Hao shrugged as if to say how pointless it would be to answer him. But Ren slightly turned his head to look up at him again, unable to hide from his eyes what he tried to hide in his voice.

"...You knew better. Isn't that why you—" Ren paused again, realizing he's about to sound like he's reproaching Hao. That's not what he meant. "You knew."

What he settled for was simple but Hao still understood what he meant. But he didn't say anything. He crossed his arms over his chest and this time he was the one breaking away from Ren's gaze and sending his own outside. Ren wondered if he's ever seen Hao like that. It was an odd feeling to see him actually trying to be careful with what he says.

"What I knew was, nothing lasts forever." But it didn't take him long and he looked at Ren again with an unusually plain look on his face. "Schools tend to make us forget that by letting us feel like these days will never come to an end. But most of us here would never forget. We can't afford to. But it still hurts... even though we should've known all along."

Ren didn't say anything but his face, his downcast eyes, not only told Hao he agreed but even how much he agreed.

"You know what else I knew? That I can't play around with you." From the way Hao smirked when he said that, Ren immediately knew he was talking about that one time the brunette came on to him—and ultimately failed. "Don't get me wrong; you're not the first guy to reject me or even the first guy to punch me to make a point about it. And it's not the reason I never tried again."

"Really?" Ren blinked, genuinely confused. "Then what was?"

"Instinct? A gut feeling? I don't know, whatever you wanna call it." Hao chuckled with a shrug. "I mean, I kinda guessed you're probably one of those guys who come from a family that already have a wife picked out for you. But it wasn't just that... Something told me that you're the kind of guy I just shouldn't make a game out of. Because you don't play like the rest of us, Ren. Even if you might mean to at first, eventually it'd stop being a game for you even if it still is for everyone else. Everyone like me... and Usui-san."

"So you are saying I should've known better." Ren muttered lowly while glowering at his own reflection in the glass, not wanting to look at Hao's face anymore.

"No, I'm saying I should've known better." But the brunette shook his head. "I thought, best-case scenario, he plays you and breaks your heart, then you break his bones or ego whichever comes first, but then, you know, we all move on."

"Wait, you're saying that's the best-case scenario?" Ren couldn't help but look at Hao again while giving him a face.

"Well, yeah!" Regardless, Hao nodded at him. "I mean, it would've been better than what it turned out to be. I didn't think you would... Or he'd be... I didn't expect it would get so..."

Messy?

Complicated?

...Serious?

Hao sighed as he gave up on finding the right word for it.

"This was the worst-case scenario." He whispered instead while shaking his head, his eyes not even looking at Ren anymore as if he forgot he's sitting right there. For a second Ren could've sworn he saw something like regret flash in those avoidant eyes. And for a brief moment he felt as though Hao was telling him... he's sorry.

"Don't give yourself so much credit." Hao looked at Ren again, startled by his voice that suddenly picked up a terse tone. Ren looked back with a frown and golden eyes that told him to listen hard. "Whatever you think you would've known or could've done... it wouldn't have mattered. It wouldn't have changed anything...because I wouldn't have done anything different."

"Is that so?" Hao raised a brow and smirked as if he was glad to hear Ren still sound like himself. "Then I guess I can let Lyserg know he really didn't have anything to worry about." The way he also sounded like he suddenly recovered as well made Ren roll his eyes. But even that haughty gesture seemed to please him enough to make the brunette chuckle. He then moved off from the glass he was leaning on and turned on his heels. And apparently he no longer had anything left to say as he began to walk away.

"Was Lyserg a game you're playing?" But he came to an abrupt halt before going into the tall plants he came from. And he stood stalk still, not turning back to the boy who made him stop with the question he unexpectedly threw at him.

"Would you have done anything different?" Ren continued to ask anyway, watching the brunette who still wouldn't look at him. And Ren doesn't say more, knowing he heard him. But he hoped Hao knows he didn't ask to provoke the brunette. It wasn't meant to hurt or even criticize him. He was just being honest. His questions were genuine with curiosity of wanting to know. And maybe even concern. Because eventually—

"Hey, Ren," Hao finally spoke as if to stop Ren from finishing that thought. His head was turned ever so slightly but not enough to let the addressed boy see what kind of face he was wearing. "...Good luck."

You just worry about yourself. Ren could almost hear what he might have really meant to say. But he didn't respond as he watched Hao disappear into those tall plants again. And then he heard the faint sound of the door closing. Ren let out a quiet sigh, not sure if what he's feeling is disappointment. What—or who—would he even be disappointed in? And then he wondered what he was even trying to prove in the questions he asked Hao.

It seems like the only thing he proved was his inability to defy the inevitable. And he wished it didn't make him feel so foolish because of how unavoidable it felt. But it was like fighting gravity. Like he never stood a chance from the start. Or maybe that's why he fought so hard. Because it felt like all the odds were against him. After all, it seemed only natural that he would only want to challenge those odds, like a child when they're told 'no'—To keep wanting what's forbidden.

To be continued…