"Take a week off." Theodore Chen paced around Decha as two nurses catered to his medical help. One of the nurses wrapped his wrist in a bandage, and the other was tending to the wound on his face. The blood had been stopped, and now she was applying a disinfectant mist on top of the cut.

"What?" Decha's bold response caused the nurses to flinch away in fear.

"You heard me. Take a week off." Director Chen repeated, more sternly than the first time.

"You know I can't do that. This case is very detrimental. I need to solve it and find the culprits before anyone else gets hurt!"

"I understand that," Chen folded his arms and stepped forward. He dismissed the two nurses and looked back at his son. The scar made Chen uneasy. It reminded him of when he fought against a mob of Bracketers. One of the criminals had a knife that caused his scar. "But your life is very important too, N96. When was the last time you took a break?"

"If I slack, the city will be torn to ruins." Decha spat. "You can't send me on vacation."

"This isn't an order from only me, Decha. This is an order put in place by the council. 7 days of your absence have been required. You are not to pick up a weapon or do anything work-related until you've healed. The Medical team at the hospital in midtown has told me about your sprain and refusal to rest."

"I'm fine! Now is not the time to rest! There's a death machine on the loose, planting bombs near Grandell! You saw the damage that truck did!"

"You work too hard, Decha. Sector A appreciates your dedication, but you're a bit of a workaholic. The council reviewed the tapes. You almost didn't make it out of that fight alive. I know it's partly because of your injury. But Sector A can't lose one of our most prized warriors. That's why Strout offered the petition, and everyone agreed."

"You only agreed because of our relationship. My work has nothing to do with our ties."

"Even if that's the case, everything has already been signed. You're taking a week off, whether you want it or not. When you leave the Agency, you're to report back home. The staff will keep a close eye on you to make sure you're resting."

"But I'm fine!" Decha groaned. "This is a little scratch! I've gotten worse!" He pointed to the scar on his eye.

"I'll see you when I get there, N96." Chen shook his head and left the room with nothing else to say.

"Shite," Decha growled. "What am I supposed to do in seven days? Lounge? How does that even work?"

Decha changed his clothes and was ushered out of the Agency soon after being treated. With nothing else to do and nowhere else to go, he took a train home. It didn't take long for his mother to greet him.

"Decha!" She grabbed his face and turned his cut side to get a better look. "Who did this to my handsome boy!?"

"Mom, it's fine." He pulled away, extremely annoyed. "It's just a scratch."

"A scratch!? Decha, this is a scar!"

"A scar that will heal in time." Decha sighed and nudged her away.

"What happened to your hands?"

"What about my hands?"

"They're bandaged. Did you—"

"It's just a sprain. It's not much." Decha walked into the grand living room and sat down. He leaned forward and began sorting through the documents on the coffee table, a form of work to keep his mind busy.

"I seriously worry about you, my son." Jessica leaned over the back of the couch and gave him a quick embrace. "Your shoulders are too stiff. Not soft like they used to be."

"Well, I can't be soft-skinned while I'm busy keeping Astell safe."

"When was the last time you took a hot bath?"

"Mom." Decha voiced sternly. She was starting to embarrass him. There were other Generals stationed in the mansion who could hear their conversation. A tint of red shaded his cheeks when he heard soft chuckling coming out of the other room.

"Your father sent you here to rest, right?" Jessica ignored his visible frustration. "Hand me those papers. Don't touch or do anything except relax."

"Mom, I—"

"Give them to me, Decha."

Decha closed his mouth and groaned. He hesitated before slowly giving her the documents from the table. Jessica snatched them away happily. "Lie down."

"I—"

"Lie down," Jessica repeated and tugged his shoulders back so he would lie against the cushion. "Wait here while I fix you a meal. I'll have the maids clean your room and I'll fix you a meal. You're so thin. You need to eat more."

"I eat plenty," Decha scoffed. "My diet is restricted."

"You need more meat on you." Jessica grabbed his arm. Decha wasn't skinny, but he wasn't thick either. His body was lean and muscular and it wasn't something Jessica was used to. She remembered how chubby he used to be when he was younger.

"I take in protein."

"Okay. Just stay here. No work." Jessica narrowed her eyes, subtly telling him she wasn't joking. However, the moment she turned away and left him there, Decha's fingers started to twitch.

His mind began to wonder about the case. He hadn't even gotten the chance to review the video footage of the Borders collapse. He was behind on paperwork. And now there was a new machine that arrived on the scene. POYO. He was sure it was Rory's creation.

Now was a perfect time to question her about it. She claimed that he stole it, but what if she had it and was secretly controlling it? A part of him believed it wasn't the case, but it didn't change the fact that she was the creator of such a deadly device.

She was still a Bracketer. Not to mention, she was keeping a secret from him that he already knew of. Her condition getting worse.

Rory didn't trust him enough to talk about herself. So why should he trust her? He needed to make sure she wasn't a threat to him, his family, or any Astellians. He needed to get to know her more on a deeper level.

Decha hadn't realized while in thought that he was already walking to the guest room where she was staying.

He was already at her door. Decha grabbed the knob, turned it, and walked inside without knocking. He knew about having manners, he just didn't want to be cordial with someone who may have potentially created a death trap.

POYO was friendly. What exactly happened?

Decha stopped when he saw Rory at the desk, fast asleep. She had a black marker in her right hand as if she were writing something before falling into slumber.

He wondered when was the last time she had any sleep. Decha glazed his fingers across the black markings. It was a bunch of math and code written messily.

Next to her arm was a tablet. Probably something his mother gave her. On the screen was a model of glasses and earpieces.

He was curious but decided not to look into the information written down. "Rory." He tapped her shoulder gently, but she didn't budge. "Rory!" He grasped her shoulder and raised his voice a level higher. Rory jerked up and looked at him.

She quickly flipped the tablet around and turned to face him.

"Yes?" She mumbled and rubbed her tired eyes.

"There's something I have to ask you." Decha pulled a nearby stool toward the desk and plopped himself on it. He extended his hand, inviting her to sit back in the chair.

"I'm not scanning." Rory blurted and folded her arms.

"It's not about that."

"I'm not going to answer any questions about my condition either. I feel fine. I already ate, I—"

"Listen to what I have to say first." He cut her off with a dour look. Rory closed her mouth and eyed him for a moment.

She felt afraid of the confrontation but sat down anyway. The two were at eye to eye now. She felt awkward.

"I'm going to cut to the chase. I don't have any time for games." Decha started. "You created... that thing. POYO. For what? To give support to people who need it?"

Rory raised a brow. Why was he asking her about this? Did he find her flash drive? Was he planning on giving it back to her? "Yes..."

"The coding that you created for it... do you remember it?"

Rory let out a small laugh. "Do you think anyone can remember an entire worksheet of coding off the top of their head?"

"Yes," Decha answered honestly, as he was one with a great memory. He remembered everything he read from her notebooks. He needed to make sure she didn't hide some sort of switch to use the AI for a deadly purpose.

"Why are you asking me about POYO? You're the one who took it, so—"

"I didn't take your AI."

"You did." Rory insisted. "Honestly, after what happened last week, I don't blame you for confiscating my project. Astellians are naturally on edge because of the bombs."

"You're always assuming the worst about us." Decha sighed.

"It's not the worst if it's the truth."

"The other night, at the hospital, who did you see?" Decha needed to find out what happened the night she accused him of taking POYO. Someone hit her. He just never had the time to see the footage. "Tell me the truth."

"You sent one of your colleagues after me."

"That's not the case."

"You want me to tell the truth but you refuse to acknowledge I'm not lying."

"What did the person look like? Was he dressed in a uniform? How many pins did he have on his cap, if any at all?"

"You're asking me too many questions. I can't remember."

Someone stole POYO. It was clear that Rory didn't know about POYO's purpose being changed for no good. But he needed to be sure. "How do you feel about Astellians?"

"I don't have any ill feelings towards Sector A."

"Let me change the question. How do you feel about me?" Decha leaned forward and glared at her. He was testing to see if she had any negative emotions toward him that would've caused her to change POYO's purpose.

Any wrong reaction of hers would confirm his suspicions.

There was no way she was as happy as she was before the Border collapse.

Rory felt her heart pounding in her chest at his question. How would she even respond? "Um..."

"You're hesitating..." Decha snapped. "I wonder why."

"I... well... you... um..." Rory's words were coming out quickly and messy. Never has there been a guy to ask her about her thoughts of him.

She didn't think he was a bad-looking guy. He was very handsome, and he had a nice figure. His eyes didn't bother her, she thought it was cool.

Rory thought he was a bit rude, but he was nice at times. So she knew he didn't mean any true harm. And he was mysterious, so she liked trying to figure him out as if he were a puzzle.

Decha moved closer to her, and Rory was trying her best not to go into a nervous ramble. But his face was so close to hers and she couldn't escape. It felt impossible for her not to talk about her engineering.

"You... you..." Rory stuttered.

"I... what?" Decha murmured, a poisonous tone seeping out of him. "Do I scare you?"

Rory's eyes were glued to her lap. Her face felt hot. So hot that her eyes were tearing up. Whatever was going on with her, she felt like she was sick. Her heart was pounding, she had butterflies in her stomach.

Her senses were going crazy. She could smell him. He smelled nice. Like a pine tree in the forest.

"You smell!" Rory blurted, and her response shocked Decha.

"What?"

"It's a nice smell. It's not bad. It's like dew in the early morning, at a park. I like the smell. My father used to open windows for me because I couldn't leave the hospital. But that smell reminded me of what I wanted to do. I couldn't play like the other kids, but the smell made me feel closer to doing that." Rory rambled.

Decha stared at her, completely taken aback and confused. He wasn't sure how to respond to that. No one has ever gone into detail about his scent before.

"And I think you are an attractive guy. But not in a weird way. You could use a bit of a haircut, and maybe stop looking so angry all the time. Unless you have to. It's good not to be so open all the time. You—"

Decha clapped his hand over her mouth to stop her from talking. Now annoyed, he pulled away from her and grumbled.

"You're intimidating... but that's not a bad thing. I think you're often misinterpreted." Rory finished, her heart finally calming down when he placed distance between them.

Her words made Decha stop to think. It was one sentence, but impactful. There was truth to them. His eyes may have been dark and cold, but deep down he wasn't at all.

"Do you trust me?"

Rory kept quiet, confirming the answer.

"You don't trust me, but you're acting collected. What are you thinking?"

"I trust... that you have good intentions. You act the way you do because of a reason. I trust that you don't intend to hurt me."

"I don't like that answer."

"I don't know what else to say to you."

"What are you working on now?" Decha eyed the tablet suspiciously. "Is that the reason why you don't get any sleep?"

"It's nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing to worry about." Rory had already rambled about his smell, she didn't want to start again with her new project.

"I don't remember you ever wearing glasses." Decha crossed his arms, playfully referencing the image he saw on the tablet.

Rory felt her cheeks heat up but she refused to say anything.

"I'll let you finish...whatever you're doing." Decha pushed himself off the stool and twisted his arms. They were still sore. Rory noticed his injuries.

"Did you fight? Again?"

"I don't think that's any of your business," Decha smirked at her, and Rory frowned.

"You're right, I'm sorry."

"There was a slight disadvantage in battle, I couldn't keep up. But I'll be fine." Decha expressed softly. His answer stunned her. A General, one in the high ranks just gave her a direct answer.

Rory observed him intently. Although his face held that same scowl, it wasn't hard to see that he was opening up.

How was it that the man who carried out the death penalty was so... serene?

"Does your... eye...?"

"It's a scar that will heal in time. It doesn't hurt."

"Won't it be permanent?"

"Maybe. It's not a big deal."

"Won't that make it harder for you to get married? I read in one of my history books that Generals join the program through the council to find a suitable mate. But if your face has a scar..."

Decha grimaced. "Do you think I'm worried about some match-making program?"

"I don't know... I used to hear it was a big thing here. In the Brackets, striking an Astellian General by the face is a serious crime. On the same level as murder. My father always told me to watch my step around them as a kid. So I—"

"That program isn't as huge of a deal as you guys think. The council finds a likely match and pairs you up, but there are too many times when it doesn't work. It's a draining process. So Generals typically aren't interested." Decha walked over to the door but stopped right at it. "I think it's best to spend our time focusing on our jobs. The Outside is a very dangerous place, and there's much needed to do to keep both Sectors safe. Attachment to things, or even people can drag us down from what's important."

"Woah." Rory fiddled with her fingers while listening to him. As she thought, he was a deep thinker. There was much more to Decha than his mean face and rude brief sentences. "I agree, doing the best you can to help everyone is important... but you can't do it alone."

"Attachment isn't obsessive, not always. I think it's okay to have a healthy balance. The people you are trying to keep safe because of duty can be the ones who influence you the most. They can be the ones to motivate you to continue your work." Rory stepped forward and looked at him with a soft smile.

"My father, he always used to work so hard to take care of me. But he used to always tell me that I was his motivation to do so. Although your circumstances are different, you deserve to have someone who would help keep you going while working."

Decha's shoulders went from strict and pinned to relaxed. "I deserve that, huh?"

"Everyone needs someone. But there is a great handful of those who deserve to have someone who gives them comfort, motivates them, and keeps them pushing on."

"Do you think you're one of them?" Decha wanted to see her stance. She was encouraging him, but what about her? Decha knew that her sickness was getting worse, so he wanted her to realize that her words applied to her as well.

"Well... I like to think I already have someone. But they'll meet me somewhere far away sometime shortly."

Death. After death was nothing. Her time was short. The only person she had backing her was her father. However, her father was nowhere to be found. If he was still alive, she knew he would meet her at her grave.

"N96... Work is important. It may be a sign of strength. But don't overdo it. Time goes by faster than we all think. If we spend too much of it on things that keep us stagnant, we won't ever grow to see what's more valuable."

"I'll keep that in mind." He smiled at her, catching Rory by surprise. His eyes were dark, but they were practically glowing from Rory's perspective. Decha had a nice smile. It was warm and welcoming.

For some reason, at that moment, she thought of him to be cool. He listened to her. Astellians weren't known for patience or humility, but he was displaying traits she thought she'd never see out of a Sector-A General.

She liked seeing this side of him. "You... Thank you for allowing me to stay here. I didn't say it before, I know you must've been tired of dealing with me. But I realized I was rude to you and your family. So I'm sorry for that."

"Don't worry about it." Wait, what? Did Decha really just say that? What was wrong with him? Why was he speaking in a softer tone? Decha felt like something was controlling him to act this way.

"Decha." Jessica's voice chipped in, bringing both Rory and Decha out of their conversation. "Berlina just prepared some hot water for you and dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes. Oh, was I interrupting you two?"

"No." Decha shook his head. "I was just leaving." Decha brushed past his mother, and went on his way.

"Did you eat yet, Rory?"

"I did." She brushed her arm nervously.

"And you drank the tea, right?"

"Yes."

"Did he try anything with you? You look like you saw a monster."

"No. We just talked."

"Okay. Get some rest. I'll have the maids bring you some extra blankets. It'll be cold tonight and tomorrow."

"Okay." Rory nodded.

Jessica felt something was going on between the two. What had they been discussing while she was away? She saw the smile on Decha's face. It wasn't until she walked in his expression went back to heartless.