Chapter 55: The Black Card, Seo’s Invitation, And Harolin’s Unbuttoned Collar!

The director’s office was warm and smelled like old paper and expensive coffee.

Harolin sat across the desk and watched the director read the proposal with the careful attention of a man who had been running a facility long enough to know that every suggestion came with something attached to it.

The director was not a small man in any sense. Not physically, not in the way he occupied a room. He had the specific energy of someone who had spent years being the most important person in most conversations and had settled into that comfortably.

He was also one of the only people in this building who knew exactly who was sitting across from him.

He was not an officer on temporary assignment and definitely not an ordinary transfer from another facility.

A private general. Active military. Several ranks above anyone else in the building including the director himself, which the director handled by being extremely pleasant and offering good coffee.

He set the proposal down.

"The advantages are clear," the director said. "Two weeks between games means reduced operational cost. Less preparation. Less equipment turnover."

"Yes," Harolin said.

"And the top ranks benefit considerably. More time to consolidate their position. More time enjoying the privileges."

"That’s also true," Harolin added and secretly rolled his eyes.

’I’m doing this so my Ru can stay alone and not with other perverts.’

The director folded his hands. "The bottom ten, however, would suffer longer. Two weeks in the punishment block instead of one. That raises some concerns about the facility’s duty of care."

Harolin said nothing. He somehow doesn’t care about them as long as Ruaan is not in the bottom ten.

The director looked at him.

Then the corner of his mouth moved very slightly.

"Of course, the top rank also maintains more stability. Fewer disruptions to established positions." He paused. "Which benefits certain people who have recently moved up."

Harolin kept his face completely even.

The director smiled like a man who had arrived at a conclusion he found privately amusing. "I’ll discuss it with the others. I’m not saying yes. I’m not saying no."

"Understood," Harolin said.

The director reached into his desk drawer. He took out a card and set it on the desk between them. Black. Embossed. A name printed along the bottom edge.

Ruaan Caldwell.

"Mr Caldwell senior made contact yesterday," the director said. "After the news segment aired. He’s become a facility investor, effective immediately." He pushed the card forward. "He asked that his son be treated appropriately for his rank. And that this be delivered to him."

Harolin picked up the card and looked at it.

"He asked me to pass it along," the director said. "I thought you might be able to manage that."

The way he said it made it clear that he was aware of several things he was choosing not to say out loud, which Harolin filed away without reacting to.

"I’ll handle it," Harolin said.

He stood up and put the card in his pocket.

The director watched him go and leaned back in his chair after the door closed.

He exhaled.

He had seen a lot of things in his years running this facility. He had seen rivalries and alliances and the particular kind of attachment that developed when people were confined to the same space for long enough. He had watched the most disciplined people discover they were not as disciplined as they thought.

He had not expected the demon of the battlefield to be among them.

He shook his head slowly.

"Well," he said to himself, "it’s none of my business."

He pulled the next file toward him.

He thought about his son, somewhere in this building with broken glasses, and added quietly, "I just hope Seo keeps his head and not fall in love with him."

He had no idea that Seo’s head was pointed in the exact same direction. Seo just kept it a secret before he knew his father would be so against it.

.

.

Harolin heard the laughter before he reached the door.

He stopped in the corridor and listened.

Two voices. One he knew immediately. The other he placed after two seconds and his jaw tightened.

He pushed the door open.

Ruaan was on the bed with his legs crossed, a manga open across his knee, laughing at something on the page with his head tilted back. Seo was beside him with his own volume, broken glasses slightly steamed from laughing, gesturing at something in the panels.

They both looked up when the door opened.

Ruaan’s face did the thing it always did when it saw Harolin. He was off the bed before Harolin had fully stepped inside, crossing the room and wrapping both arms around him.

Harolin’s hand went to the back of his head automatically.

He held him for a moment.

Then he raised his eyes.

Seo was looking at him from the bed with a wide, warm smile and the particular quality of attention that Harolin now understood was not as innocent as the broken glasses suggested.

He remembered the corridor. Oren’s voice. ’There’s someone close to him who shouldn’t be.’

He looked at Seo.

Seo smiled back pleasantly.

Harolin cleared his throat and looked down at Ruaan. "What is he doing here?"

"You won’t believe it," Ruaan said, pulling back with the bright energy of someone about to share important news. "Seo was attacked. Some of the prisoners grabbed him and he was hurt and I found him in the corridor and—"

"So?"

Ruaan blinked. "So I helped him."

Harolin rubbed his eyes slowly. He already knew what was coming. He could see it from here. He did not need to ask the next question because the answer was visible in the second manga volume on the bed and the way Seo had arranged himself against the pillows.

"Please," Harolin said, "tell me you didn’t let him stay in your room."

Ruaan looked at the wall.

"Ru, talk to me."

"You said not to tell you," Ruaan said. "So I didn’t tell you." He walked back to the bed and sat next to Seo folding his arms. "Seo is a kind soul and he’s also my friend. He’s being bullied. I’m not going to watch that happen."

Harolin looked at Seo.

Seo looked back at him with the serene expression of someone who had gotten exactly what they wanted and was being very calm about it.

Harolin reached into his pocket.

He held the card out toward Ruaan.

Ruaan took it and looked at it and turned it over.

"This is from your father," Harolin said. "He called the facility after the news. He’s made an investment." He paused. "And he asked that it be delivered to you."

Ruaan stared at the card.

His expression did something that moved through several things quickly. The complicated version of feelings he had about his father that he never talked about directly.

"That old man," Ruaan said, quietly. "He didn’t actually abandon me."

Then he looked back at the card and held it up.

"Can I actually get anything with this?"

"Anything you want from outside. As long as the funds are there, just make sure to keep it safe away from the other prisoners."

Ruaan tilted his head. "Don’t all prisoners have cards?"

Seo made a sound that was almost a laugh and stopped himself. "A black card means unlimited funds. Others have regular cards with whatever their families deposit." He pushed his glasses up. "You’ve genuinely never seen one before?"

Ruaan looked at the card. "I got my first one when I was five. From my grandparents. I just assumed they came in different colours."

The room was quiet for a moment.

"Rich people," Harolin said.

"Are you trying to show off?" Seo said at the same time.

Ruaan looked between them and smiled. He stood up and walked to Harolin and pressed the card against his shoulder.

"Keep it for me," Ruaan said.

Harolin looked at him. "You’re giving me your black card."

"You’re the safest person I know in this building. You might as well have the card."

"What if I spend your money?"

Ruaan looked at him directly. "Are you in trouble? Is it Mara? Is she okay? Does she need something?"

Harolin closed his hand around the card and said, "Stop talking. I’ll keep it."

Ruaan grinned.

Harolin pocketed it and turned to Seo with the look he had been saving.

"You can stay tonight," Harolin said. "Just one night. Tomorrow morning you will go back to your cell. It’s against the rules."

"Of course, sir Harolin," Seo said warmly. "Whatever you say."

Harolin held his gaze for one more second and started heading for the door.

Then Seo turned to Ruaan with his hands folded in his lap.

"Would you like to wash up together, Ruaan?" Seo said pleasantly. "Since we’re both here."

The room went quiet.

Harolin stopped walking.

He stood facing the door with his hand not quite on the handle.

He heard Ruaan behind him saying, "Wash up? Sure, that works—"

Harolin’s hand moved to his collar.

He undid the first button and turned around.

"I’ll sleep here tonight as well," he said. His voice was very even. He looked between Ruaan and Seo with an expression that communicated several things without saying any of them. "Let’s all wash up together."

Seo looked at him.

His grin spread slowly across his face, wide and genuine, like he had finally gotten whatever he wanted.

"Why not," Seo said. "Sir Harolin."