This chapter is brought to you by Friend by BTOB.
Edited by: bafflinghaze
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Neo watched as Tybalt discreetly looked him up and down, his eyes narrowing like a sly and clever cat.
This was typical for him, who was so observant and cunning. He was a fun bastard, scheming and unapologetically devious behind his smiling facade.
Truly, an exemplary example of a person built for Noble Society—doing whatever it took to survive. Even if it meant entering the viper's pit.
Nazareth had been the serpent in the trenches... And Tybalt simply descended into hell for his own goals.
Giving a low whistle after taking in his new appearance, Tybalt drew his lips into a crooked grin and unashamedly spoke without any sense of propriety.
"Not a bad look, Naza. I didn't think you would ever cut your hair. You just made me lose three silvers."
He approached him with a curious gaze and tugged the half-tail without asking for permission, his gesture neither rough nor gentle.
Neo tried not to flinch at the casual touch. The other boy wasn't one for personal space and often got touchy-feely with those around him. Even back then, despite Nazareth's reputation of being a scummy troublemaker, the other boy didn't fear him for his wicked deeds.
Or if he did, he hid it well.
The friendly deposition in Tybalt's posture was clear in the way he held himself.
His lack of manners was purposeful—a way to let other people's guard down.
What threat would a lowly maid's son be to the son of a duke? Bastard or not.
It was all in the name of self-preservation. Tybalt was wickedly smart. He knew how to present himself in front of him without being seen as a threat, eventually managing his way into the inner circle of Nazareth's protection.
He placed himself in the very center, becoming almost invaluable.
This person had gained his trust once. It wasn't surprising when he betrayed him, but the ease in which he managed to retain a bit of that loneliness from his past self and fill it with his own presence was telling of Nazareth's own desires.
Nazareth wasn't built for solitude. In both lifetimes, he craved companionship. Tybalt and the others were the closest he had to friends, but he didn't consider them as such.
They were his lackeys—glorified retainers who were treated only slightly better than the average servant.
He had no friends, regardless of what anyone thought.
He had followers and those who were willing to ally themselves to him.
But friendship? He had foolishly given away those chances for his own selfish cause.
Neo had trusted Tybalt.
He still trusted him despite the past.
As treacherous as Tybalt was, it was no fault of his own for wanting to survive.
That was what they were all doing.
Surviving.
Neo allowed Tybalt to tug at his hair for a moment longer before breaking away from his grip.
His face instinctively became expressionless, similar to the rest of his family. It all came naturally to him, like a second skin. His eyes narrowed into glacial chips while his lips straightened into a thin line.
"Do you like it?" he asked, voice cold and icy, with no particular feeling or inflection. "I decided to try something new."
Neo felt like an ice cube. It'd been a long time since he felt so brittle.
Tybalt barely batted an eye as he answered with a hum.
"Hm," He crinkled the corners of his eyes, allowing his smile to widen even further. "Is that so..."
Neo met his gaze cooly.
And then, just for the hell of it because Tybalt was a bit of a bastard, he allowed himself to give one tiny smile.
"How have you been?"
The beginning of change starts with a single decision.
Nazareth had no time for these pleasantries, but Neo was genuinely curious about Tybalt's well-being.
They were a bunch of traumatized teenagers thrown into the world with no preparation beyond a list of families they should associate with and a list of families they shouldn't. There were no instructions for how to live this life—how to be happy.
He had the privilege to be nicer—kinder.
It would be reasonable to say he was the one who should be offering his hand.
Tybalt's eyes widened. His mouth moved, opening and closing. It was the first time Neo had seen him lost for words.
"You..."
Ah... Neo glanced around and saw the many onlookers discreetly eyeing them as they stood in front of the school entrance.
Perhaps they should have taken this conversation elsewhere.
Somewhere in the crowd, he thought he saw Aurelion looking at him with a strange expression on his face.
---
Tybalt felt... confused.
It was not often he became perplexed in the face of Nazareth--Naza--but he was.
Naza had always been a bit of a puzzle. Dangerous, scummy... insane.
But today, he didn't feel the usual dread of fear bubbling up in his throat when he saw him at the steps of the school. Was it the haircut, perhaps?
On a good day, Naza would look like a wraith from hell, hair scattered all over and covering parts of his face.
His eyes could be quite frightening behind his fringes.
But not today.
Today, Naza looked... human.
And Tybalt... he didn't know what to think of that.
Without all that hair, it was surprising to see how similar Naza looked to Young Master Aurelion. The two of them actually looked related, for once.
Tybalt's mind began to turn with questions.
There was a high chance Naza was planning something. Perhaps a new scheme?
But more importantly, should he prepare to hide in case the other decided this was the day he would go on a murderous rampage?
Tybalt always wondered what an Odum would look like if they were to smile.
Naza showed he could look frighteningly innocent.
As a natural response--so to avoid anyone dying on school grounds, Tybalt allowed himself to make a face filled with panic.
"What's with that expression on your face? That smile... Oh, by the gods, that smile! Are you ill? Should you be coming to school?"
He pretended to be anxious, groping and tugging Naza about, even going as far as to check his forehead for a fever.
This scene would have been funny, and maybe even endearing to outsiders, but Tybalt knew not everyone was fooled by his act.
Much to his own bewilderment, Naza didn't seem to react to his dramatics.
The other would usually give him a heavy scowl that implied murder or annoyance, but today, all his expectations have fallen through a sieve.
Fear suddenly grabbed Tybalt by the neck.
He met bright red vermillion eyes.
The smile on Naza's face chilled by several degrees.
Oops.
---
Neo could see right through Tybalt's act, not because he was better at understanding what was beneath his sly character, but because he knew Tybalt as someone he once used.
This boy did not deserve his dismissal and thoughtlessness back then. They were young, and he, himself, was a fool. Neo vowed to give him the respect he rightfully deserved.
Neo smiled as Tybalt acted the part of a jester.
Ah, if only he hadn't pushed Tybalt to the brink. Perhaps then, the boy could have left Noble Society, not in disgrace, but as a man stepping out to make his own fortune.
Tybalt was the fourth illegitimate son of the Phelan Family, a Baron Household.
His mother was a lowly young maid who died during childbirth, leaving young Tybalt to fend for himself in a house full of other illegitimate children and mistresses at an early age.
You could say that Baron Phelan liked to play. The bastard was already so old yet so energetic!
Remembering Tybalt's father, Neo involuntarily shivered. He once caught the old goat eyeing him for a suspiciously long time when he visited the Phelan Household. From then on, Tybalt was the one who did the visiting.
How Nazareth managed to befriend Tybalt was rather simple.
Back when they were in the Junior Division, he had noticed the sly and clever eyes the other hid behind the face of a carefree jokester and approached him with a bargain.
Tybalt had connections. He made the network himself, building it from the ground up with information, blackmail, and secret messages. All for the sake of survival in the Phelan Household.
In exchange for the connections and his intellect, Nazareth offered him his protection.
As the bastard son of a Baron, a maid for a mother, and a part of a household that had made no further achievements beyond its initial title for the last two hundred years, Tybalt was looked down upon with dissatisfaction.
He was basically a commoner with no real merits.
The scholarship students who come from commoner backgrounds were more useful than him.
Of all his followers, Nazareth trusted him the most. Tybalt was his closest advisor, his second in command.
He helped him plot new and interesting ways to ruin his brother. It was a marvelous thing they had, and perhaps they would have been true friends if not for one particular problem.
Tybalt was actually a spy planted by Aurelion.
Neo remembered the betrayal, and really, did he not deserve it?
When evidence of his misdeeds began to come to light, Nazareth planned for the loyal and dumb Royce Benedick--another one of his followers--to take the blame. Utilizing the sly and clever Tybalt, he had the boy push Royce out of Noble Society to ensure that he left no footprints to trace back to himself.
Tybalt's connections and abilities then resulted in indirectly killing Royce.
And he ultimately blamed Nazareth for using him to murder one of their own.
"He was our friend!"
"He was our tool."
"..."
"Tybalt, he was loyal, but his value is less than yours. I chose him in order to save the rest of us."
"You chose him because you saw him as a worthless pawn. To you, we are just pieces to this game you play with your brother!"
"I had thought you were aware of that when Aurelion sent you to my doorsteps like a stray, unwanted dog. Weren't you desperate for that ounce of protection you so dearly needed? As a bastard to another, you should have known how desperate we all are to survive."
"..."
"I have never seen any of you as friends. I have held no affection for you or Royce or Finneas. To me, all of you were worth something. A dog, a servant, and a fool. But all of you stayed for the benefit of my protection, for my attention. Didn't you?"
"You..."
"Enough. I am tired of this conversation. I had thought I'd made myself clear that I would do anything to get rid of my brother. Did you not think it would include sacrificing a few pawns? Perhaps playing the fool has made you stupid."
Vermillion eyes glowed with a cruel light as Nazareth smiled like a demon from hell. No regret can be seen on his face, no sorrow for their fallen friend. He casually raised his glass of wine and took a sip.
Slam!
Tybalt stormed out.
Neo knew Tybalt never liked him. Even when he became a part of his group, Tybalt had always been cautious, careful in his words and actions despite breaking many rules of social conduct.
He hid it well.
Nazareth never bothered to notice anything wrong. He was in favor of pursuing his own goals, such as killing his brother.
He knew Tybalt had some affiliations with Aurelion a few months before their confrontation. His personal connections had caught the two exchanging information and reported back to him.
This was around the time Nazareth began to lose grasp of his control. Eventually, when Royce's death reached their ears, all things went to shambles.
A shame. One tragedy after another. He lost against people he deemed as his enemies and lost the people he deemed as friends. Or, potential friends. They could have been friends.
It would have been lovely. Really, really lovely.
Back in the present, Tybalt was still bemoaning whatever it was he was bemoaning.
"—Please don't tell me you're dying! By the gods, the only other explanation for the reason you're acting like this is if you're about to die—"
"Never mind that, Tybalt," Neo finally had enough. He dropped his smile and stepped away from the range of groping.
"I'm fine."
Before Tybalt could answer, Neo was already pushing him toward the building.
"But Naza—"
"Come on, we'll be late for class." He cut him off in a clipped tone, wanting to be as far away from the onlookers, who were no doubt staring at Tybalt's dramatics and gawking at the sight of him being thrashed about.
Just as the two of them were approaching the long steps that led to the building, a figure raced through the school gate like some demented meteor and pitter-pattered—an abrupt sound of feet loudly thumping against the ground—straight towards the duo.
This, of course, drew both Neo and Tybalt's gaze toward a gangly-looking boy with fluffy brown hair, looking like he was just about to keel over and die.
"I'm..." The boy panted, very loudly and sounding very tired, "... Here..." He breathed,
Tybalt blinked and then widened his eyes in surprise.
"Finnie! I thought you were ill," he said in astonishment, gazing at the boy who was wheezing and sweating buckets.
Neo stared at him with a blank expression on his face, a look of shock carefully masked behind his stoic expression.
He found himself looking into a pair of watery maroon brown eyes.
At the eye contact, the boy squeaked and cowardly stared down at his feet with all his focus, his exhaustion long forgotten.
The name left Neo's mouth before he could stop it. "Finneas."
The boy still wouldn't look at him, but thankfully, he responded to him.
"Y-yes?"
The voice was just as he remembered, delivered with a nervous stutter and sounding on the verge of tears.
Neo pursed his lips. And then, he tried again. "How are you?"
A quiet, almost whisper-like answer came from Finneas. "Fine..."
Neo eyed him a little longer, drawing in the timid and cowardly Cry-Baby Finneas.
---
Finneas Ellon Dagon was having a terrible morning.
His seasonal illness had come with a raging fever, confining him to bed for the last three days. The fever had broken at dawn and although he was sure he still needed a little more rest, his father had ushered him out of the manor without so much as a bottle of healing draught.
He missed breakfast, was dragged out of bed at the latest of time, and was deemed fit for school the moment his father felt his head and decided that all was well with him at last.
Finneas then proceeded to miss the carriage. His older brother, having assumed that he would not be going to school today, left without him by a mere five minutes of him scrambling for the door.
His limbs felt weak, he still had chills all over his body, and his brother had taken the only available carriage left for the day.
He took a fucking horse to school, parked said fucking horse at the nearest horse stall offered by the school--which was really just an ugly piece of shit with a trough of water and some half-assed locks that he could easily break or pick ("I'm so sorry, Daisy. I'll give you a treat after class—ow!"), refusing to be late and knowing his father would not excuse him.
Now, despite it all, here he was, at this god-forsaken academy, at last, being stared down by Nazareth fucking Odum, the guy who can fuck him over with a simple raise of his hand.
He sucked in a breath.
Fuck. His mind supplied helpfully. He needed to fucking vomit.
Fuck life, fuck his brother, and fuck the fucking world. This shit was too much for his ill body to take. Fuck this shitty body of his with its poor-ass constitution!
The gods obviously wanted to make his life more miserable than the average person with his fucking seasonal illnesses. Thank you for that, you fuckers!
As Finneas internally mulled on his thoughts, he stared firmly at the ground, glaring.
He dared not look at this illegitimate first child of the Odum family. Even if the other boy's status was rather taboo, offending an Odum was worth more than his pride. His father and brother have ingrained this fact into him the moment the bastard approached him.
It didn't matter if this particular Odum happened to be known as the Scummy Troublemaker of the school. The scorn of an Odum was both cruel and unusual. He shivered just thinking about it.
The last time someone offended an Odum, well... Guinivere Odum might be one of the most beautiful ladies of high society, but he had witnessed the young girl kick someone's ass and hang them naked for the whole school to see...
It was best to keep quiet and hold in his anger and frustration.
When the Odum bastard asked about his well-being, he wanted to roll his eyes.
Why, of all days, was this bastard playing a new game?!
Did he look well enough to play "how are you?!"
"... Fine..." he answered, his voice coming out hoarse. He had been coughing non-stop for the last three days.
A breeze hit him slightly.
Finneas could feel the tree pollen carried in the wind
His eyes watered, feeling irritated and itchy. He rubbed them and sniffed.
Gods, he hated his fucking allergies!
---
Vermillion eyes were filled with sympathy and remorse. Ah, this pitiful lamb.
Nazareth originally approached Finneas with the intent for a lackey that was both obedient and easy to control. Unlike Royce and Tybalt, Finneas never had a mean bone in him.
His family's relation to the Tower Magic was an added bonus.
Due to Finneas' timid and shy nature, Nazareth treated him like a servant. He used Finneas' fear of him to make him submit.
Finneas was the second son of the Dagon Family, his father being the Viscount of Dagon.
His home life was relatively stable. He had no conflict with his elder brother, who was the heir apparent of the Dagon family. Viscount Dagon was considered a capable noble, perhaps slightly overbearing as a father, but he meant well.
The Viscountess died a few years back due to an unfortunate accident.
The Viscount's family held a status that was neither too powerful nor too useless. They were capable and stayed within their stations. Finneas' own status was that of a spare to the Viscount title, so he was relatively content with his lot in life.
These circumstances drew Nazareth to the boy.
After Tybalt left the school in disgrace, Finneas was cornered by Aurelion and his associates and interrogated.
They threatened to bring down the entire Dagon Household if he didn't tell them what they wanted to know.
Finneas ultimately admitted Nazareth was the true mastermind behind all the conspiracies. Soon after revealing the truth, he departed from the academy as well.
When Nazareth learned the news, Finneas already exiled himself and left for a small villa owned by the Viscount in the countryside. Due to the downfall of his reputation and the fear of Nazareth's backlash from the betrayal, it was decided that he would not be allowed in Noble Society anymore.
Perhaps, Neo thought with guilt, if he had not used him like so and was kinder, Finneas would not have been involved with his terrible reputation.
Perhaps, he wouldn't have had to live his days in the countryside manor by himself and endure a lonely life.
One by one, those who Neo should have held dear all left his side. He didn't realize he was all alone until they were gone.
But never mind that. He had to focus on the current Finneas standing before him.
Brown hair that reached the nape of his neck and watery maroon brown eyes hidden by a few curls made for an image of a helpless animal.
Before, Neo never noticed the pitiful look of this child, and now...
Ah, simply too adorable. He wanted to hug this poor, little lamb.
Without properly restraining himself–and really, he should have absolutely restrained himself–Neo went in and gave a very affectionate and generous pat on the shoulder to the touch-starved (he assumed) kid.
---
What. The. Fuck.
Finneas froze up when he felt the Odum bastard patting his shoulder like some... some pet!
The apparent Scummy Troublemaker then took the initiative to speak in a tone of voice that didn't match his face.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
The bastard looked psycho!
"... Lord Odum?"
Finneas couldn't move, in fear that this was the day he was going to die.
"I'll find a solution for your illness."
"..."
What the fuck?!
What the fuck?!
He was going to fucking die! That was the bastard's solution for everything!
"We should head for class now. Let's discuss this another time."
Turning toward the school entrance, Nazareth began climbing the steps.
Behind him, Tybalt and Finneas followed like loyal followers.
The two of them stared at each other, speaking with their eyes, expressions, and body language that went a bit like this:
Blink, blink—What the fuck happened to him?!
Strain smile, shrug—How should I know? He's been weird all morning~
Timid frown, watery eyes—You fuck! Aren't you supposed to be some kind of fucking genius?
Cock eyebrow, bright smile—Maa, you should relax. This Scummy Troublemaker isn't all that terrible today. Who knows? Maybe he died and came back. I hear that people change when they have a near-death experience.
Pointedly giving a look at the bastard, hunched shoulder, nervous smile—This fucker is playing games with us. He's playing a fucking game! How are you?! What the hell is that?! Why the fuck does he care?!
Seeing the rage that was deeply hidden within those timid and watery eyes, Tybalt said, "Naza, some of Finneas' medicine is in the infirmary. We can let him take some during lunch, so there's no need for another solution."
That did the trick.
The bastard paused in his steps and turned to them, nodding seriously.
"I forgot the healers prescribed you your medication. We will go to the infirmary after class. Your health should be your number one priority."
Again, Tybalt and Fineas shared a look with one another.
"Yes..." was all Finneas could say, glowering at the ground again.
The three of them didn't say another word after that. Each of them were lost in thought.
---
Step 10. Meet your lackeys and begin to properly befriend them; either that or die.