The Snare of Symmetry C7

Chapter 7

“Are you sick?”

“No, I’m fine…”

It had been a while since they’d made plans. After graduation, Rhyno had become noticeably busier, and opportunities to meet had dwindled. Even though Bernard felt chilled to the bone, he forced himself to come out anyway. Rhyno’s expression, as he pressed a hand to Bernard’s forehead, was unusually serious. Bernard sniffed and overlapped his own hand on his forehead.

“Stay here. I’ll go buy some medicine.”

Rhyno stood from the bench and disappeared quickly. He was especially sensitive when Bernard wasn’t feeling well. Rhyno was Bernard’s one and only friend—rough around the edges at times, but unfailingly gentle with him.

Still, Bernard sometimes thought that kindness had a reason.

And that reason was Elliott.

He’d never said it outright, but Rhyno often stared quietly at Elliott.

“You’re twins with Elliott Whale, right?”

Bernard had known ever since that blunt question during their first meeting in college. People like that were always crawling around Bernard’s life anyway. The difference was that none of them became his friend—except Rhyno.

Like so many others who adored Elliott, Rhyno admired him too, but seemed unable to voice it easily. His inner thoughts were hard to read. Elliott rarely came up between them. More precisely, after their early days of becoming close, Rhyno had never been the first to bring him up.

Once or twice, when they’d run into Elliott and Rhyno stared at him as if transfixed, Bernard had nudged him and told him to be honest—he already knew. But he couldn’t remember what Rhyno had said in response.

In the gap between wandering thoughts, Rubens’s face suddenly surfaced. Just as Bernard was thinking he should’ve told the truth back then—that he wasn’t Elliott—Rhyno’s voice cut in.

“You’re really out of it. Should I have gone to the hospital instead? Take this.”

“It’s nothing. Why did you buy so much?”

“You always say that.”

From the paper bag came headache medicine, painkillers, fever reducers, and cold medicine—one after another. Even as Rhyno’s voice sharpened, Bernard let out a small laugh.

“…Thanks. As always.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, but don’t take on pointless responsibility.”

It sounded like he knew more than he was saying. Bernard blinked as he opened a bottle of water. He wanted to poke and ask what Rhyno meant—but instead, he quietly swallowed the pills.

“Want to go inside a café?”

“Whatever you want.”

Rhyno gathered up the remaining medicine and nodded. He was generous with Bernard. He rarely opposed what Bernard wanted, usually responding with calm acceptance. That was why Bernard thought Rhyno was nothing like the rumors circulating around campus.

“Maybe I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

“If they say something at home again, come over to my place.”

“It’s not that… I think Elliott might be dating someone.”

Rhyno’s expression tightened slightly. He set Bernard’s coffee down and sat across from him, his response lukewarm.

“I don’t like Elliott.”

“There’s no need to hide it from me, Rhyno.”

“…You really get frustrating in the strangest ways.”

Rhyno’s voice carried a deep sigh, but Bernard didn’t even blink, calmly sipping his hot coffee.

“Okay, okay. Let’s change the subject. It’d be awkward.”

“Please, Bernard…”

Rhyno pressed his lips together. The urge to curse Bernard’s cursed intuition rose to his throat—but he swallowed it. If only someone would snap that useless instinct in half. Unfortunately, Bernard was hopelessly oblivious in that regard and always would be. To Rhyno, that was devastating.

“So? Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Did you really leave the graduation party early?”

“…Yeah. Thanks for being curious about that, at least.”

Even at Rhyno’s deflated sigh, Bernard only shrugged.

“Something came up at the company.”

“Oh. You’re taking over?”

“Something like that. Enough boring talk—tell me something fun. Got anything?”

At Rhyno’s grumbling, Bernard fell silent. Suddenly, he remembered that the business card he’d been cherishing for days—Rubens’s card—had disappeared. He’d kept it in his wallet like a lucky charm. Losing it didn’t make sense; he hadn’t even gone out much. The unease lingered—but saying it out loud would change nothing.

“Nothing much.”

“No one mess with you at the party?”

“What, you gonna scold them for me?”

“If you want me to.”

That answer made a faint smile spread across Bernard’s face. It felt rude to sink into thoughts about that man in front of a friend he hadn’t seen in a while. The trivial thoughts quickly faded.

When Bernard returned home after his short outing, the atmosphere felt wrong.

He entered quietly, scanning the interior. As expected, Elliott was nowhere to be seen.

“Elliott’s late—where have you been?”

Sarah’s sharp voice cut in before Bernard could even greet her. He bit his lip, then forced a smile. Displeasure flickered across her face.

“Aren’t you worried about Elliott at all?”

“Well… Elliott does fine wherever he goes. He’s been busy lately.”

“He’s weak—where does he keep going…”

Bernard spoke gently, trying to soothe her. Sarah’s expression softened slightly.

“I’ll try calling him. Go upstairs.”

“Yes. Good night.”

Bernard answered politely and climbed the stairs. A bitter smile crept up at Sarah’s contrasting behavior toward Elliott and himself. Even though he’d skipped dinner, Liam didn’t show his face at all. His lifelong devotion to Elliott had hardened into callus-like indifference.

Bernard entered his room and shut the door without turning on the light. The more questions piled up, the more miserable he felt. If only he could stop thinking—stop judging—everything would be easier.

“Ah… right. Maybe I was too late. Congratulations on graduating.”

When he was alone, those words replayed endlessly. Just a clichéd greeting—yet the more he recalled it, the more something churned deep inside.

“…Was it really something worth congratulating?”

The longer he lingered on that single night, the more easily his emotions ripened. People cling to memories, dressing longing in reasons until it becomes something special. But now—it was time to let go. He’d dragged it out long enough.

Bernard lay face-down on the bed, his shoulders rising and falling shallowly. It didn’t take long for that to turn into trembling. And just as exhaustion pulled him under, a hand lightly shook his shoulder.

“Bernard.”

“…Elliott?”

Someone called his name through the haze of sleep. At the familiar voice, Bernard responded weakly. Elliott slipped onto the bed, smiling softly—his voice tinged with excitement.

“Were you asleep?”

“I just woke up. What’s wrong—are you sick?”

Before Bernard could add anything, Elliott acted first, pulling him into a sudden hug. Bernard instinctively returned it.

“There’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

“Is that why you’ve been coming home late?”

“Oh, Bernard. Bernard…”

Elliott let out a hushed exclamation, smiling brightly. Seeing that happiness, Bernard smiled faintly too. Elliott was sometimes the source of his inferiority—but more often, his pride.

“He likes me.”

A quiet sigh slipped past Bernard’s lips. He worried first about whether Elliott had met someone strange—but couldn’t voice it in the face of Elliott’s joy.

“Is he a good person?”

“He’s amazing. You’ll like him too.”

It was always like this. Maybe because they were twins, their tastes often aligned. Bernard knew most of the people around Elliott—at least before graduation. Lately, though, Elliott felt strangely distant.

Bernard thought carefully, but no candidate came to mind. Had Elliott met someone new outside? He couldn’t ask directly. The look on Elliott’s face—giddy with love—was like something out of a painting. Bernard didn’t want to ruin it.

“When will you introduce us?”

“So… would you have dinner with us this weekend?”

Elliott’s partners changed often—sometimes women, sometimes men. But they shared common traits: always older, usually the one taking the lead, and always strikingly beautiful. Maybe this one was the same. Bernard nodded with that assumption.

“I hope you’ll like him.”

“You’ve been late every time because of him? You even drank last time.”

“He said if I drank, I might remember…”

Bernard blinked, not understanding. Sleep had fully fled now. A shy flush crossed Elliott’s face.

“He said we’ve met before. When I told him I didn’t remember, he said I smelled like alcohol back then—asked if I’d been too drunk to remember.”