Soft, steady taps on the obsidian surface were all that broke the dense hush lingering in Johan’s office.

He wasn't working.

The ledgers and blueprints before him were a blur.

His expression was one nobody, not even his most trusted lieutenants, could have comprehended.

His dark eyes, usually so sharp and perceptive, were distant, clouded with a turmoil that was entirely new.

He felt... unmoored.

The heavy, soundproofed door opened with a soft, definitive click.

A figure slipped inside, his movements fluid and silent.

He was young, with sharp, intelligent features and eyes that held a familiar, weary cunning.

Dressed in a suit that cost more than most cars, he was the picture of polished efficiency.

He closed the door behind him with the same deliberate quiet.

For a long moment, he simply stood there, observing the statue-like form of the man behind the desk.

Then, with a familiarity that spoke of deep, complicated ties, he crossed the expanse of deep-pile carpet and sank into the plush leather chair positioned directly opposite the monolithic desk.

Johan did not acknowledge his arrival. His gaze remained introspective.

The young man waited.

He was accustomed to these silences.

He let his own gaze wander over the room.

Finally, Johan's focus shifted.

Slowly, his head turned. His dark eyes swept over the visitor, and then stopped.

They narrowed, ever so slightly, their intensity sharpening on the faint, but unmistakable, redness blooming high on the young man's left cheekbone.

The mark was fresh, the shape of it suggesting an open-handed slap delivered with considerable force.

A single, elegant eyebrow arched upwards.

The young man let out a long, weary sigh that seemed to carry the exhaustion of a long journey.

He leaned back, the expensive leather creaking softly in protest.

He rolled his eyes, a gesture of pure, bone-deep exasperation. "Nao slapped me," he stated, his voice flat, devoid of any attempt to soften the absurdity of the statement.

Johan's eyes remained locked on him, a dark, patient pressure.

The silence stretched, demanding more.

"Because," the young man continued, the words now laced with a defensive grumble, "after we landed here, he wanted me to go with him to search for North immediately. To just show up at the mansion. I refused."

He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping as if sharing a grave secret, though they were the only two souls in the room. "I don't wanna be dead yet. And then, yeah..." He gestured vaguely at his face.

"He gave me all the possible abuses known to mankind for being a bad friend and a print of it on my cheek as a reminder." He finished with another, heavier sigh, slumping back into the chair as if the confession had cost him.

The room was quiet again, the low hum of the climate control the only sound.

Johan's gaze was analytical, dissecting the information, the emotional state of the messenger, the implications of the act itself.

"And you let him slap you?" Johan finally spoke, his voice a low, calm baritone that seemed to absorb the light and sound in the room.

It wasn't a question of physical capability; it was a question of principle, of the natural order where such an insult was met with immediate, devastating consequence.

The young man looked at him, a flicker of defiance igniting in his eyes. He scoffed, a short, sharp sound. "None of your business."

Johan's other eyebrow slowly rose to join the first.

He didn't need to say another word.

The sheer, crushing intensity of his focus was a command in itself.

The pressure in the room intensified exponentially, the air growing thick and difficult to breathe.

The younger man held the stare for a moment longer, a muscle in his jaw twitching, before his resolve crumbled.

He sighed again, this one deeper, more resigned, carrying the weight of a truth he didn't want to admit.

He looked away, staring at a spot on the pristine desk, muttering under his breath. "Fine. Whatever."

"Tiger."

The name was spoken softly, but it had the effect of a whip-crack. The younger one immediately straightened his back upon hearing his name, his expression shifting from petulant to professional in an instant. The mask of the operative was back in place.

"Don't worry," Tiger said, his voice now crisp and clear. "Nao will pursue North to join the same university. The leverage is in place. He's determined."

Johan gave a slow, single nod of approval.

The formal report delivered, Tiger allowed his posture to slacken just a fraction.

The grumble returned to his voice. "The things you make me do, brother. I fear if I show my face in front of North and Nao together, they are going to barbeque me. I'm the betrayer, remember?"

As he spoke, a flicker of something-something surprisingly close to amusement-played at the very corner of Johan's lips.

It was there for less than a second, a subtle softening.

Tiger's eyes, however, caught it.

They widened in genuine shock.

He pointed a finger, his mouth slightly agape. "Did you just smile?"

Johan's face was an impassive mask once more.

He looked at Tiger, his dark eyes giving nothing away.

Then, deliberately, a slow tug pulled at his lips.

It was a rare, sharp expression, full of cold amusement.

Tiger narrowed his eyes, studying his brother's face as if it were a complex code.

He cracked his neck, a sharp sound in the quiet room. "Bangkok never felt this good?" he ventured, a hint of his old slyness returning. "I assume I am going to have an in-law very soon?"

Johan didn't say anything.

He simply held his gaze.

A flicker of something else-something thoughtful-passed over Johan's features before he finally spoke, his voice low and laced with something one couldn't name.

"I hope."

~***~

North sat stiffly on the edge of the plush sofa, his phone a burning weight in his hands.

For over an hour, he had simply stared at Nao's last message after he had replied back.

Nao replies to it were a chaotic jumble of fury, fear, and frantic relief that perfectly encapsulated his best friend's spirit.

He set the phone down and waited, the grandfather clock in the hall ticking away the agonizingly slow seconds.

Every creak of the old house, every distant car engine, sent a jolt through his system.

He was a bundle of raw nerves, caught between the desperate need to see a friendly face and the terror of having to explain the nightmare his life had become.

Then, the doorbell rang-a sharp, clear chime that shattered the tense quiet.

North was on his feet in an instant, his heart hammering against his ribs.

He crossed the marble foyer in a few quick strides, his hand pausing for a single, hesitant moment on the cold knob before he pulled the door open.

He barely had time to register the figure standing there before he was engulfed.

It wasn't a hug; it was an impact.

Nao launched himself forward, his arms wrapping around North with a force that knocked the air from his lungs in a pained gasp.

The embrace was rib-crushing, desperate, and filled with weeks of pent-up fear and anger.

North could feel the frantic beat of Nao's heart against his own.

"Ouch," North hissed, his voice muffled against Nao's shoulder.

"Don't 'ouch' me, you bitch!" Nao's voice was thick with emotion, a mixture of relief and raw fury. He held on tighter, as if afraid North would vanish into smoke if he let go. "Don't you dare."

North, lightheaded and struggling to breathe, slapped Nao's back repeatedly. "Nao... air... I need air!"

Finally, with a grunt of reluctance, Nao pulled back.

His hands came up to grip North's shoulders, holding him at arm's length.

His eyes, usually bright with mischief, were blazing as they scanned North's face, then traveled down his body and back up, taking in every detail.

Nao's expression shifted from relief to fury.

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?" Nao's voice rose, sharp and loud in the quiet foyer. "Do you have any idea? Any idea at all how worried I was? How worried everyone was? Your aunt was a mess! We filed a missing person's report, North! We thought you were dead!" He released North's shoulders to throw his hands up in exasperation. "A text! A single, goddamn text wouldn't have hurt! 'Hey, I'm not dead!' Was that so difficult?"

He grumbled, running a hand through his already disheveled hair, his chest heaving.

North sighed, the sound weary and defeated. "Just... calm down. Come inside." He gently guided a still-fuming Nao into the living room and pushed him down onto the sofa.

At that moment, Mrs. Theerawong appeared in the doorway, her face a careful mask of maternal warmth over a foundation of deep anxiety. "Nao, it's so good to see you," she said, her voice soft.

Nao immediately stood up again, his anger momentarily banked by politeness. "Mrs. Theerawong," he said, bowing his head slightly. "Thank you for having me. North told me you'd be here."

"Of course, dear. I'll get you both something to eat." She offered a fragile smile before retreating towards the kitchen, leaving the two friends in a heavy silence.

North sat warily in an armchair opposite the sofa, feeling the full, excruciating weight of Nao's gaze.

It was a look that saw too much, that picked apart every defense he had so carefully built.

Nao leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his expression deadly serious.

The initial storm of anger had passed, leaving behind a cold, hard demand for truth.

"Alright," Nao said, his voice low and steady. "Are you going to explain? Or do I have to guess?"

North looked down at his hands, clenched tightly in his lap.

He hesitated, the words piling up behind his lips, too terrible, too unbelievable to speak aloud.

But the dam had to break.

He took another shaky breath, the air tasting of dust and dread.

And then, he began to talk.

He started from the beginning. The first time he'd felt watched. The growing, unnerving sense of a presence shadowing his life. The abduction. The glided cage. Everything.

He didn't look at Nao as he spoke, his voice a monotone recitation of horror.

He told him about the wall. The wall of photographs that chronicled his life without his knowledge, a violation so intimate it felt like his soul had been pinned up for display.

He spoke of the chilling, possessive words whispered, the declarations of a love.

And finally, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, he said the name.

"Johan."

The name hung in the air between them, cold and final.

Nao, who had been listening with widening eyes and a progressively paling face, froze.

His brow furrowed in intense concentration.

Johan.

He had heard that name before.

A memory, sharp and clear, surfaced through his shock. He and Tiger had been sitting in the library, when a call had come through. Tiger's phone had lit up with that single, stark name. When Nao had asked who it was, Tiger had simply, quietly replied, "Johan," before getting up and leaving the room to take the call.

The tone had been... deferential.

Nao's mind raced, connecting the horrific dots with a terrifying, nauseating clarity.

The secrecy.

Tiger's unexplained wealth.

His constant, vague absences.

His refusal to come here today.

He looked at North, whose eyes were squeezed shut, as if bracing for a blow.

"I... I already guessed," North whispered, his voice cracking. "About Tiger. Some of the pictures in Johan's office... they were taken from so close. Angles only someone I trusted could have gotten." He opened his eyes, meeting Nao's horrified gaze. "I know it was him."

Nao's face scrunched up in a wave of pure, white-hot anger. The betrayal was a physical taste in his mouth, metallic and foul.

"No wonder," Nao spat, the words laced with venom. "No wonder that ass rat was so hesitant. No wonder he refused to come with me. He couldn't face you. He couldn't face what he'd done."

He stood up abruptly, pacing a few steps before turning back to North, his hands clenched into fists.

"Never mind," Nao stated, his voice trembling with rage. "I slapped him. For good measure. I was feeling so guilty about it on the way over here." A bitter, humorless smile twisted his lips. "But now? Now I feel like I should have slapped him harder."

The sound that escaped North's lips was a brittle, wary laugh, more a release of tension than an expression of humor.

It was the sound of someone who had forgotten how to truly laugh.

But Nao was not amused.

The fury that had been simmering now boiled over.

He shot up from the sofa as if electrocuted, his body vibrating with righteous anger.

"Calm down??" Nao's voice was a sharp, disbelieving crack in the quiet room. "Are you hearing yourself right now?! CALM DOWN?! That-that monster kidnaps you, locks you up in some psycho's art gallery, has our so-called friend spy on you, and you're telling me to calm down?!"

He began pacing the length of the rug, his movements jerky and agitated. "Oh, I'm not calming down. I'm going to find a gasoline can and a match. I am going to commit arson. Where is it? Where is that fuckass Johan's house? Give me an address, North. I'm not joking."

He stopped his pacing and stared at North, his chest heaving, his eyes wild with a protective rage that was both touching and terrifying.

North was on his feet in an instant, his own fear forgotten in the face of Nao's self-destructive fury. He grabbed Nao's wrists, his grip firm. "Nao, no. Please. Just stop. Look at me. I'm here. I'm okay, aren't I?"

Nao's frantic energy seemed to drain out of him all at once.

He stopped struggling, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

He looked at North, really looked at him-at the shadows haunting his eyes, the new wariness in his posture, the way he flinched at sudden movements. "Okay?"
Nao repeated, his voice thick with emotion.

He pulled one hand free to rub his forehead, as if trying to physically push the horrific images away. "You're not okay, North. You're... you're here. But you're not okay."

Seeing the storm beginning to subside, North gently guided him back to the sofa, his mind scrambling for a lifeline, any subject to steer them away from the cliff edge of Nao's rage.

"So," North began, his voice deliberately light, "you mentioned an internship before. In your texts. Are you... are you really going to be interning here in Bangkok now?"

Nao let out a long, slow breath, the fight visibly leaving his body.

He leaned back against the cushions, looking suddenly very tired.

"Sorry, my bad," Nao corrected, his tone shifting to something more mundane, a welcome return to normalcy. "Not an internship. I meant a scholarship. A full-ride, actually." He glanced at North, a flicker of his old self returning.

"When you were gone... it was like the color just drained out of everything. And then, not long after, Tiger left college too. He said it was family stuff, but he stayed in touch, just... distant. I was just... super lonely, man. So I started applying to other places, anywhere, really. Just to get out. And then this scholarship offer came through from one of the top engineering universities here. It was too good of an opportunity to miss." He met North's gaze, his expression softening. "And... I thought maybe, just maybe, if I came here, I could find you too. It was a stupid hope, but it was all I had."

North listened, a complex knot of emotions tightening in his chest.

"That's... that's amazing, Nao. Really." North managed a small, genuine smile. "You deserve it."

A comfortable silence fell between them for a moment, the first one since Nao had arrived.

Then, Nao's expression turned serious again, his brow furrowing.

"And what about you, North?" he asked gently. "Is it... over? Did Johan just... let you go? Is he gone?"

North's gaze dropped to his hands. He picked at a loose thread on the knee of his trousers. "I don't know," he whispered, the honesty of the admission terrifying him.

Nao's eyebrows shot up. "You don't know? What do you mean, you don't know? You're here. At your house. That means you're free, right? He's not... he's not still...?"

"He came here," North said, the words feeling like shards of glass in his throat. "He brought roses. He said... he said we would do things my way."

Nao stared, utterly bewildered. "Your way? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I think..." North began, hesitantly, the idea forming fully for the first time as he spoke it aloud. "I think it means he's not going to keep me in a cage anymore. But that doesn't mean he's letting me go." He looked up, meeting Nao's confused gaze. "Before all this... I had a life. I had plans. I was going to go to college. To study engineering, just like you."

He took a deep, shaky breath, a spark of his old determination igniting in the depths of his fear.

"I want that back," North stated, his voice gaining a sliver of strength. "I can't just hide in this house forever, waiting for him to decide what 'my way' looks like. I need to... I need to live. Or at least try to."

Nao's eyes lit up with immediate, fierce support.

He leaned forward, grabbing North's shoulder. "Yes. That's it. That's exactly what you need to do."

Then, a brilliant idea dawned on him. "Wait. My university... it's one of the best in the country for engineering. The one I got the scholarship for. You should apply! You were always a better student than me, you'd get in for sure. We could go together."

The idea was so normal, so achingly perfect, that it almost brought tears to North's eyes. To walk to classes with Nao, to study in the library, to have a reason to leave this house that wasn't fear...

"You really think so?" North asked, a fragile hope blooming in his chest.

"I know so," Nao said, his voice firm with conviction. "We'll do it together. You're not facing any of this alone anymore, North. Not him, not Tiger, none of it. We're getting your life back."

For the first time in months, North felt a flicker of something that wasn't pure dread.

It was small, and it was terrified, but it was there.

It was hope.

_________________

Author's note-

Hehe a small question by ur overthinker author - u ain't getting bored right?