Vasha is a fool.

Vasha is a foolish survivor that lived at the cost of everyone else. He’d survived a massacre because of his “luck,” yet he failed to save everyone else in his clan. He’d survived his escape because of two kind strangers, yet he failed to save even them.

Vasha is a foolish slave that killed his master. He’d murdered the man for freedom, only to be trapped in a new prison. He’d been “employed” as a worker for the Starpiece Company, under the guise of “turning over a new leaf and wanting to pay for his sins.” Yet, even if his chains are gilded in gold, chains they will still be.

Vasha is a foolish risk-taker that gambles anything and everything. He’ll bet his newly-found wealth, his body, his life; to him, they’re merely chips for him to wager. Still, he’ll win all his games of chance—his cursed “luck” makes sure of that, even if he doesn’t want to win.

Vasha is a foolish coward that hides behind facades. He’ll act like a confident gambler, unfazed by the riskiest wagers—even as he hides his left arm, trembling with fear. He’ll act like he can have anything he wants—even as he hides how he lost everything that matters. He acts, and acts, and acts, until he’s forgotten if there’s someone beneath the masks.

Vasha is a fool.

Dr. Veri, an esteemed scholar, _hates_ fools. So, he should hate Vasha.

At first, Vasha thought that was exactly the case. When they first met as partners for an on-field mission, Veri had nothing but criticism for Vasha’s way of handling things.

“_Stop risking your life everytime_,” he’d lectured, once. “_It is foolish, especially when there are better solutions if you’d just stop and think_.”

Yet, despite the harsh words, Veri never left Vasha. He’d indulged in Vasha’s stupid questions and ideas, and he kept contact, even after their mission was completed. Not only that, Veri went as far as to _care _for Vasha, during a rare show of vulnerability from him.

“_Why?_” Vasha had wondered, like the fool he is.

It’s only when Veri arrives at his apartment, holding three pet cats as a birthday gift, that Vasha finally realizes Veri doesn’t hate him—no, quite the opposite, in fact.

It’s such a shocking revelation, he can’t help but ask, “Why don’t you hate me?”

Veri looks incredulous, as if resisting the urge to call him stupid. “Why would I? If it’s still not clear, I love you, Vasha.”

That leads him to interrogate Veri, who’s still in the doorway, and still carrying the three cats. After all, Veri was the complete opposite from Vasha—he was a renowned genius with eight PhDs and countless achievements to his name.

Why should he tolerate—least of all _love_—someone who is clearly inferior? Especially when that someone is so _flawed_? Especially since that someone has lost everyone they’ve loved, so who’s to say he won’t be lost too?

Somehow maintaining his patience, Veri has them move to the couch before addressing Vasha’s growing number of concerns—one by one, leaving no room for further misunderstandings regarding his feelings; a thoroughness that reminds Vasha of how he became a famous scholar in the first place.

Later, Vasha runs out of any other objections, only able to say, “But I’m a fool.”

“Well, I can’t deny that, with all your life-risking gambles,”Veri chuckles softly, gently giving him a peck on his temple. “I’ll have to keep lecturing you until you run out of that foolishness. Until then, I’ll still love you, you fool.”

Vasha is a fool. But, at least he’s Veri’s fool.