[Present]
"For my stupid pride… I lost her," Leo[Pride] said, teeth grinding in rage.
"But… how? Didn't you go alone?" Leo asked, brows knitting as she stepped closer.
"When I abandoned my party to fight alone, the enemy struck. They targeted Estrella and the others. Outnumbered… they were slaughtered." His eyes lingered on the grave, frozen there.
Leo's expression softened into sadness. "I see…"
"I thought I was alone enough to solve evrything but for my too much pride… I lost everything. My family. My teacher. My friends. Everything. I… I'm the worst man alive." Leo[Pride]'s voice cracked as he sank to the ground, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.
"He really did care… far more than me."
Leo thought bitterly, fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms.
"Who says you're the worst?" she asked quietly, lowering her head, shadows hiding her trembling eyes.
"Huh?" Leo[Pride] blinked at her in confusion.
Suddenly—BAM! Her fist slammed against his jaw.
"Wha—!? What the hell was that for!?" Leo[Pride] shouted, clutching his face.
"You shut up!" Leo snapped, fire blazing in her voice. She grabbed his collar, pulling him nose-to-nose. "Compared to me, you cared. You regret it. You feel guilt. Yeah, you're prideful, and I hate that—but at least you still had a heart! I killed for my greed. I destroyed everything with my own hands. Tell me—did anyone blame you? No? Then stop saying you're worse!"
Her voice trembled. Her rage cracked with sorrow.
Leo[Pride]'s eyes widened in shock—like he was staring at something he thought he'd never see.
"…Why are you that angry?" he asked, his voice shaking.
Leo let go, her shoulders trembling. She bit her lip, eyes shimmering. "Because… you're me. I can't stand seeing myself broken like this. Even if I'm no longer who I was… I can't accept it."
For a moment Leo[Pride] said nothing. Then slowly, he stood and looked at her with the faintest of smiles—soft, almost human.
"…Thank you," he said, voice steady. "Even though you're me. Even though I lost everything. I'll help you bring yourself back."
"Really!?" Leo's golden eyes lit up with sudden hope.
"Yeah," Leo[Pride] said with a confident smirk. " Yeah—Anyway I can help at least a person who needs help even if my other version—then I'll have no regrets."
The wind stirred, carrying fallen leaves around them, and the grave beneath the trees felt a little less heavy.
The moon hung like a silent witness outside the tall window; a single white bulb hummed softly overhead, throwing the room in a sterile halo. Golden and blue stripes cut across the white walls. The place was large and impossibly clean — a stage set for confessions.
"I see. So you did a lot of traveling for this." Leo[Pride]'s eyes narrowed. He sat with his arms crossed on a red sofa across from her, a small table between them holding two cups of tea.
Leo nodded, hands wrapped around her cup. Steam curled up, red tea catching the light. "Yes. Lucillia said only I can destroy this curse."
"How sure are you that the witch is telling the truth?" Leo[Pride] asked, calm and measured, as he lifted his cup and took a small sip.
"She—she helps people break curses. I don't think she'd lie." Leo's voice trembled; her fingers tightened around the porcelain.
Leo[Pride] set his cup down with deliberate care and made her meet his gaze. "Fine. But honestly, I am unable to destroy your curse."
"Huh? But you're strong, aren't you!?" Shock turned her face pale; panic laced her words.
"I am." He settled his expression into something heavier. "But listening to you… this punishment feels like something I once bore. I lost everyone for my pride. You lost yourself for greed. I am—" He let the words hang, a confession and an accusation both. "I am also a failure." He closed his eyes and sighed, the sound soft and tired.
Damn it. All that torture and pain for nothing? Leo's fists clenched until her knuckles went white. Her jaw worked; a hot, feral anger rose up inside her.
Seeing that, Leo[Pride] opened his eyes. "I'm sorry I failed. But I can still help you."
"Help me? How? I have to go to another timeline." Her voice was brittle; annoyance masked the fear beneath.
"You sure you want to travel to another timeline alone?" he asked, eyes sharp. "Because with your—ass body, you'll face far more problems."
"Hey, Leo, please stop calling me that. I hate it." Her eyes half-closed at the nickname, weary.
"But you deserve it." He crossed his arms and looked to the window like a man rehearsing a verdict.
"Shut up!! If I regain my body again I will beat you up!!" She stood abruptly, finger pointed like a weapon.
"Oh really? I'll be waiting." He smiled with closed eyes, a confident smirk that dared her to try.
"Ugh. Back to the topic." She collapsed back onto the sofa, exhaustion painting deep shadows under her eyes.
A quiet curiosity flickered across her features. "Hey — I also heard that in your timeline Captain Logen was killed by the Mafia. Did you know this?"
"Yeah. I killed him." He replied as casually as if remarking on the weather.
"Huuhh!!??" She froze. "That means you killed Logen Bon Arnold!?"
"Yeah. He was a burden to my plan, so—" He raised his cup to his lips and sipped, as if the cup could smooth over the confession.
"Oh." Leo's mouth flattened into a small, sad sound. She stared into her tea, watching reflections tremble on the surface.
Leo[Pride] caught the change in her face and lifted an eyebrow. "You said Logen helped you start your journey in your timeline. But my Logen didn't exactly do you any favors."
"Yeah. You're right." She lifted her head and met him again, steadying herself.
"So tell me, Leo. How can you help me?" Her voice was suddenly calm, serious — all playfulness erased.
He leaned forward, voice low and certain. "It's simple. I'll travel with you."
She considered that for a heartbeat, weighing danger against the tiny, stubborn spark of hope. Protection — strength — a familiar presence beside her. And so she smirked.
"Alright then." The smirk grew into something like resolve. They looked at each other across the small table — two halves of the same name, equal parts rivalry and respect — and for a moment the night felt charged with possibility.