After the sleep monitoring pod was installed in his room, Le An's days became even harder. Now, even his nights were under surveillance. The first time the man saw the pod, Le An heard him scoff.
"What the hell is this?"
Le An explained, but there wasn't much to discuss. No matter how much guiding he needed, he would receive it. Time, place, or method didn't seem to matter to this man.
"I'll be at my house tomorrow night, the first one you visited," Le An said.
"When does this... pod thing start?" the man asked. Le An figured he was trying to confirm whether their "sessions" would be interrupted. Midnight was his time, after all.
"My sleep schedule is a mess," Le An replied. "So, they let me decide the start time each night. I'll activate it after you're gone."
The pod was simple enough; it worked by placing wireless electromagnetic bands on his temples and running the machine. Much quieter and more comfortable than Le An had expected.
The man examined the pod with a curious intensity. He gave off the impression of someone who didn't encounter such tech often. He wasn't just inspecting the pod. His mind, against his will, wandered back to that one night- the one where Le An dared to say "you're not a bad person" to him. Like he trusted him.
And that sight, the treasure's softened breath, his relaxed face. His words and the way he looked.
Since Le An couldn't read his expressions, he asked, "You're not used to tech like this, are you?"
The man turned briefly toward him but didn't reply. Still focused. Le An fidgeted with the seam of his shirt, waiting. Finally, the man looked up at him and spoke.
"Do you think everyone's born into your shiny little world?" he said, his voice laced with scorn.
It wasn't a question. It was an accusation. But Le An couldn't just ignore it; it stung sharply.
"I wasn't born into this either," he said calmly. "And even if I was... so what? You think I chose this?"
"Oh..." The man's voice was dry and mocking. "So, the little treasure in the glass bowl is feeling suffocated? Already bored of being adored and pampered?"
Le An had so many things he wanted to say. So many thoughts clawing at the inside of his chest, desperate to be heard. But the man in front of him was still a stranger, someone who didn't deserve his truths. His breath shallowed. He turned away, staring at his reflection on the pod's smooth surface. Even his reflection looked artificial, like a machine.
The man followed his gaze and sneered. "Hmm? Don't like what you see?" he said. "But honestly, it's a relief for me... seeing your face like this. Knowing that even you, sometimes, aren't happy with your gilded cage."
He took a step closer. Le An stared at his boots. His body tensed, but he didn't move.
"What? Nothing to say now?" the man taunted. He leaned forward, his breath close. "You're usually so talkative."
"…"
Le An's silence only fueled the irritation that had been coiling in the man's chest. That night haunted the man more than he cared to admit, actually. What kind of person would fall asleep beside the one who sabotaged him? How could he trust me not to hurt him, like he forgot who I was?
He wanted to erase that calmness from this omega's face. He truly wanted to make Le An afraid. Not comforted. Not safe. Not able to sleep.
"Remember when we first met? You said you'd find me. Hm?"
His eyes scanned Le An's face with open mockery. This little omega; he was so quiet now. If he could see the man's expression, he'd probably flinch.
I want to crush you. Crush those stupid beliefs of yours and show you what kind of person I really am. I want to crush that softness, your desperate efforts to normalize what's happening to you.
"See, that's the problem with your kind," the man continued. "You all walk around so righteous and proud. But inside? There's nothing. Just emptiness."
The venom in his words was too much to bear, and yet Le An stayed silent. This wasn't the first time the man had said such things. It wasn't the first time Le An felt powerless in front of his cruelty. But still, he didn't explain himself. Not to someone like him. "…"
Seeing him like this, silent and looking away, didn't help ease the frustration either. It only fueled it. "Talk to me." The man said.
"Then why argue with someone empty?" Le An finally said. He looked up at the black strings on the man's face, now just inches from his own. "Isn't it a waste of time?"
"No." The reply came instantly. "It's worth it to see the look on your face when I speak the truth."
"What look?" Le An asked, unmoving. "What kind of face am I making?"
"Well... You haven't cried yet, unfortunately. But every time I speak, you look lost. And guilty. The kind of guilt people like you carry."
"What guilt?" Le An asked, sincerely. "What have I even done?" His voice cracked slightly. The look the man described, that lost, uncertain look, finally surfaced on his face. The man stepped back slightly, surprised by the question's rawness.
"What guilt?" Le An repeated.
"Not knowing-that's part of the problem too," the man said. He looked at Le An's face. The same face he'd seen for years—on glowing posters in subway tunnels, on massive screens in public squares, in news broadcasts where people called him a national treasure. But this version in front of him… It wasn't the same image. Not up close.
He was now standing right in front of him. Countless expressions were passing from his face. Seeing how his mouth tightened when he was confused, how his eyes darted when he felt uneasy. His eyes... He looked more human, somehow. And smaller. Real. And yet…
"It's still… you." The man murmured almost to himself. "Everything you symbolize is just…"
"Evil," the man muttered. That's what he saw. He said it again, like he needed Le An to acknowledge that with him.
"Evil."
Le An's face twitched. The weight of the word hit him like a blow. The man... his voice, his words… There was no pretense in them. Just brutal, raw hatred.
Even the man blinked, slightly stunned by the impact of his own words. Maybe this was the harshest thing he'd ever said to him.
Without saying another word, he grabbed Le An by the wrists and turned him toward the wall just like before, in those moments that made him feel like nothing more than a tool. His grip was firm, but somehow... not cruel. The air between them stilled; there was nothing left to say. After that word, Le An knew that nothing else needed to be said.
Le An let his forehead rest against the wall. He didn't need to be told what to do. He just wanted it to be over.
As he was guided, the man spoke one last time. "Don't think your silence fools me. I don't see it as obedience. Don't forget the position you're in."
Le An gave a slight nod, still facing the wall. The man's eyes lingered on his back for a moment. The blow had landed, that was for sure. Le An's shoulders were stiff, his neck taut, frozen.
Yes, he was meant to feel that. The man turned and left. For several nights after that, they didn't exchange a single word. But this silence didn't bring peace. Instead, it coiled around them tighter each day, like the quiet just before a storm.