EVEN IF I BURN ( f. sakuya ) ?

"Leo. Please, just tell us the truth."
The words hung in the air like a weight.

They had cornered him, if not physically, then emotionally. The six stood before him like a wall of fire, every one of them tense, exhausted, confused. Selene's voice was calm and had pierced through Leo's usual shield of jokes and easy smiles.

But today, Leo wasn't smiling. He stood a little off-center from them, one hand resting on the back of a chair like he needed the support. The lights of HQ buzzed low above them which created shadows under his eyes.

"You already know everything," he said flatly. "I've been honest with you since the day we met."
"Don't lie," Riku snapped. "You've always danced around the truth. Always smiled and deflected when we asked about your past."

"You think that I've got some grand secret?" Leo raised an eyebrow, laughing once and bitterly. "I'm just a washed-up mentor who makes a decent cup of tea and pretends not to care when you all nearly blow yourselves up in training."

"That's not who you are," Selene said softly.
There was a pause.
And then Sion whispered, "Selene... can you make him talk?"

Leo stiffened. "Hey, what—"
But she was already looking at him. It was quiet and calm. She wasn't angry nor demanding. She was just... looking.

And for some reason, that made Leo falter. Her stare wasn't invasive, it was curious and gentle. But it cut through every armor he had.
For a second, just a second, he truly had forgotten how to breathe.

In her eyes, something stirred. It wasn't pity or pressure. Just... understanding.
And that undid him.

He groaned, running a hand through his blonde hair and stepping back, pacing once. He laughed dryly, his voice cracked. "God... You guys really don't let up, huh?"

Then he looked down and he started to speak.

"I was five," Leo said. His voice was lower now and dull, like the sound of a flame snuffing itself out.
"I was five when the world ended."

He sat down slowly on the edge of the table behind him. His hands were limp in his lap. "You know my name. My real name. Leonitus Caelum Solare. It's not just some dramatic ancient-sounding name I picked because it sounded cool."

No one interrupted.

"I was born to Solare blood. And the Solare name—it carries weight. My parents used to tell me stories. Not bedtime stories. Histories. Ones that weren't in the archives. About the Original Eight. About the Solarbond. About what really happened when the stars fell."

He looked up at the ceiling like the memories were painted there.

"I didn't understand any of it back then. To me, they were just my mom and dad. They sang lullabies in Old Tongue. My father made soup with too much garlic. My mother had the kind of laugh that could make even shadows curl up and listen."
A breath.
"And they were terrified. Every day."

Leo swallowed.
"They taught me to read by candlelight. They'd stop talking the moment someone knocked on the door. My dad used to keep a dagger under the floorboard in the study. I remember once, he pulled it out just because the wind knocked over a vase."

He paused.
"I didn't understand why." Then his voice broke slightly. "Until the night they told me to hide."

His fingers curled against his knees.
"There was this room behind the bookshelf. They had been building it for years. My dad told me it was a game—like hide and seek. He said that I had to be quiet. That no matter what I heard, I couldn't come out."