"The world calls me beautiful today—
But I only waited for him to say it first."
— Nil
Dawn cracked like porcelain, spilling gold over the sleepy ridgelines of the city.
Inside his room at Moon's Smile, Nil opened his eyes to a stillness steeped in ceremony. His chest rose with the quiet rhythm of breath, yet beneath his ribs, a subtle tremor stirred—not of fear, but of clarity. Today, the air felt different. As though the world itself were holding its breath, waiting for him to step into the story that had always been meant for him.
He bathed in silence, as if rinsing away the remnants of every past humiliation. When he emerged, the steam curled around his figure like incense smoke, clinging to the folds of a new beginning. Draped in a spotless white suit, his damp hair combed carefully to one side, he stood before the mirror—not merely dressed, but sanctified. He looked at his reflection and, for a fleeting moment, saw not the boy who once clung to dreams out of desperation, but a man bearing a solemn, incandescent purpose.
Far across the city, within the polished glass walls of Neptune Villa, Kao Neptune was already moving.
His long fingers slid the final button into place on his cuff, every motion sharp, clean, and uncharacteristically impatient. The dark slant of his brows betrayed a rare urgency. He snatched up his car keys, ready to leave. Today's veneration ceremony may have been formal, but for Kao, there was only one reason to attend: Nil.
But just as he reached the foot of the staircase, a familiar voice chimed behind him.
"Brother, wait! I'm coming with you."
Kao paused, turning back with visible disbelief. "What for?"
Achara stood a few steps above him, already dressed in a soft grey blouse and pleated skirt. Her eyes were determined, glinting with mischief and something deeper—interest.
"It's just a veneration," Kao said flatly, sliding his watch into place. "You don't need to come."
Achara tilted her head. "You didn't say I couldn't come."
Kao narrowed his eyes, already regretting opening his mouth.
Still, there was no winning against her when she was in this mood. Her will, when fixed on something, was like a stubborn root buried deep beneath soft soil. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Fine," he muttered. "But hurry up. We're picking up someone."
As Achara descended the steps two at a time, slipping on her sandals, she asked innocently, "Who?"
Kao didn't even glance at her. His tone was mild, offhand, almost lazy. "No one."
Achara's brows twitched. But before she could press further, the car was already pulling out of the villa's private drive.
The morning road shimmered beneath the sun. They passed sleepy sidewalks, temple walls streaked with age, and clusters of orange-cloaked monks collecting alms.
And then, just as they neared the café—
Kao's hands tightened against the steering wheel.
A sleek black car was already parked out front. Its polished body reflected the morning light, and standing beside it, tall and unmistakably prepared, was Than.
He stood with calm poise, holding a small bundle wrapped in saffron cloth—likely an offering. His appearance was polished, humble, yet somehow possessive. As if he had always known he would be the one escorting Nil to his first public veneration.
The moment Kao saw him, a sharp breath stilled in his throat.
The sensation was subtle at first, like a nail driven gently into the chest. But it spread quickly, molten and unrelenting. He hadn't expected it to hurt like this—to see someone else standing in the place he'd imagined for himself. And not just someone. Than.
That familiar bitterness rose, cold as steel and twice as silent.
Achara glanced at him. "You okay?"
Kao smiled. It was so slight, it could almost be mistaken for serenity.
"Of course."
But his eyes never left Than's hand—the one extended toward the café's entrance, waiting for Nil.
Achara sat with one leg crossed over the other, her gaze drifting toward the window, but her mind far from idle. As the scenery passed in a blur, the unease that had planted itself in her chest earlier refused to dissipate. The silence inside the car was not peaceful—it was taut, stretched so thin that even the whisper of breath felt like a betrayal.
Something was off.
Her brother, for one, hadn't spoken a word since they'd left the café. Not even a grunt of disapproval. And Kao was never silent unless he was calculating something or suppressing something.
Achara's eyes flicked toward him. Kao's profile was calm, his expression neutral, even elegant—but there was a sharpness in the angle of his jaw, a tension in the fingers curled loosely against the wheel. He drove as though chasing something down, yet never let the speed exceed decorum. Polished, composed—lethal.
She didn't ask. Instead, she sank back into her seat, lips pursed, and thought, There's something I'm not seeing.
By the time they arrived at the studio gates, the scene ahead had already unfolded into a small storm.
A sea of people had gathered, journalists holding their mics aloft like spears, camera shutters fluttering like the wings of startled birds. Bright lights flashed in every direction, catching the faint gleam of banners, studio staff uniforms, and the formalwear of attendees beginning to arrive for the ceremony.
The moment Kao stepped out of the car, a wave of attention surged forward like the tide.
"Mr. Neptune!"
"Kao Neptune, this way please—!"
"Achara..!"
The crowd's attention shifted instantly toward Achara, who had just exited the car in a daze of silk and light perfume. The press, unable to resist the symmetry of their appearance, wasted no time. Flash after flash ignited, each shot a desperate attempt to catch the elusive aura that clung to Kao like mist.
Kao said nothing, merely nodded, guiding Achara lightly with a hand at her back. But just as they began to make their way toward the ceremonial courtyard, a rumble rose from behind them.
The air thickened. The noise dropped, momentarily muted by a sudden anticipation.
Another car had arrived—not just arrived, but commanded attention.
The matte black vehicle rolled up with fluid power, as if it had swallowed the road whole. The studio staff, guests, even the press, all turned toward it in reflex. The murmurs died away, and in that brief pause, every heartbeat felt audible.
Then the door opened.
Than emerged first, tall and tranquil, every movement composed yet effortless. His presence was not theatrical—it was inevitable. With one motion, he circled to the other side of the car, and pulled the door open with a smooth flourish.
A hand extended.
A breath held.
And then—
Nil stepped out.
He descended with the grace of someone unaware of his own gravity, eyes lowered at first, then lifted to meet the sunlight. Dressed in white, the fabric catching the morning gold like sacred cloth, he stood against the roar of the world with a stillness so complete it silenced everything around him.
He placed his hand gently into Than's.
A murmur surged through the crowd like a wave returning to sea.
"My god... they're beautiful together."
"Is that his partner? Look at them!"
"Such a match—they look like a wedding painting come to life!"
Click. Click. Click.
Cameras captured the scene: Nil's serene gaze, Than's hand lingering at the small of his back, the delicate way they stood—not clinging to one another.
Somewhere in the midst of the crowd, Kao stood frozen.
He didn't move. Didn't blink. His hands remained loosely at his sides, but the chill that crept up his spine was unmistakable.
Achara turned to him. Her voice, when she spoke, was almost gentle. "Brother... is that your 'someone'?"
Kao smiled faintly, without mirth.
"No," he said softly.
The courtyard pulsed with murmurs, fragrant with incense and the heavy perfume of admiration. Petals floated in shallow bowls, the white of ceremonial garments reflecting the soft shimmer of sunlight on lacquered tiles.
Nil and Than, framed like a portrait at the center of attention, stood composed amidst the attention that clung to them like silk.
And farther off, veiled by the crowd yet never removed from the moment, Kao stood with arms crossed and eyes fixed.
His gaze, sharp as a blade half-drawn, never once wavered. He watched as Than leaned in to whisper something near Nil's ear. Nil tilted his head, a ghost of a smile curling his lips—not for the cameras, not for the crowd, but for the man beside him.
Something ugly twisted in Kao's chest.
The storm inside him had long passed the point of subtlety. What he felt now was not just jealousy—it was a kind of helpless, burning disbelief. That he, Kao Neptune, whose name echoed through every studio and executive hallway, should be standing here, in the shadows, while someone else stood beside Nil in the light.
He did not speak. But Achara, who had been quietly observing from his side, could feel the tension roll off him like waves striking rock.
"...Brother?"
Her voice was soft, almost cautious.
Kao's eyes did not leave Nil's figure. "Mnn?"
"Are you alright?"
The question broke through his silence like a pebble dropped into deep water.
Kao smiled—or tried to. But the expression curled wrong, lacking its usual smooth charm. "I'm fine."
Achara, who had grown up knowing the difference between his smiles, simply looked at him. Then she folded her hands neatly and bowed her head slightly.
"There is still some time before the ceremony begins," she said quietly, as if requesting an audience with a monarch. "Please excuse me, Brother. I'd like to go greet P.Nil."
The words landed like a slap.
Kao blinked. "Ahh..." His voice stumbled into the air. "Stay with me. Don't go to see such a busy man."
There was a strange edge to his tone—not scolding, not joking, but something in between, something ragged. The quiet desperation of a child watching their last possession being taken away.
Achara smiled gently. "It's only for a few minutes," she replied, her voice careful but unwavering. "Please excuse me."
She bowed again, and turned.
Kao's hand lifted—just slightly—as if to stop her. But the words that came out were helpless, foolish, too late.
"Acharaaa... comeee backkk..."
The garden behind the ceremonial hall was a quiet pocket of light, a soft haven carved from the morning bustle. Here, the air was still and fragrant with blooming orchids, their petals trembling like secrets on the verge of being told.
Achara stepped lightly over the stone path, her shadow long against the trimmed lawn. She paused beneath a flowering tree where Nil stood alone now, the last traces of his earlier conversation with Than gently fading from the air.
Her smile was warm, her voice tender as silk. "Sa-wa-dee, kha. You are Nil, right?"
Nil turned, a soft flutter in his chest. He had not expected her to speak to him—not with such natural grace. He dipped his head politely, the corner of his mouth tilting with calm reserve.
"Sa-wa-dee, karub. Indeed, I am Nil. And you... must be Achara."
Achara blinked, the hint of surprise tightening her brow. "Do you know me?"
Nil's gaze lowered slightly, not in shame, but in thoughtfulness. "I've seen pictures of you," he said with quiet respect. "With Kao sir."
The way he said sir—not with sarcasm, not with awe, but with a measured reverence—made something in Achara stir. She studied his face more carefully now, and saw a gentleness in it, the kind that didn't come from obedience, but from having suffered, and choosing not to harden.
Nil glanced across the garden, where Kao stood in conversation with Director Kim and several studio executives. Even in that setting, Kao held presence—cool, poised, self-assured. But to Nil, he was more than just the mask.
"Your brother..." Nil said slowly, as if drawing the words out from a deep place. "Is actually amazing. I've never met someone like him."
Achara's curiosity piqued. "Like...?"
Nil hesitated, eyes still fixed on Kao.
"...Kind," he began, the word barely a whisper.
"...Patient."
"...A brilliant businessman."
"...A protective brother."
And then, with a softness that barely trembled: "And... more than anything else, a great human being."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The wind brushed past them like a breath held too long.
Achara's expression shifted. The teasing, mischievous glint that usually danced behind her eyes melted into something more vulnerable. Her gaze turned toward Nil with an emotion that hovered somewhere between gratitude and sorrow.
"I used to think I was the only one who truly understood him," she said, her voice unsteady. "But hearing you speak... it's like you see parts of him even I don't."
Nil quickly shook his head, modest and unwilling to claim what wasn't his. "Although he's not expressive... he's not that difficult, either. You just have to watch closely."
Achara smiled faintly, but there was a shadow behind it.
"There's a reason he's like this, P'Nil."
She paused, as if weighing how much to say.
"In our childhood... it wasn't easy. First, we lost our mother. I was too young to remember, but he wasn't. And then—our father. After that, there was no time to cry, no one left to hold him. He had to grow up too fast, and carry everything, and everyone."
She looked down, brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek.
The sun had risen fully now, casting long shadows through the open-air courtyard, where sacred garlands hung and bells chimed softly in the breeze. The scent of sandalwood drifted over the temple grounds, but Nil's mind was far from the present.
His gaze, drawn like silk to a magnet, lingered across the garden where Kao stood a few paces away, speaking with Director Kim.
Even from this distance, he could trace the elegant slope of Kao's jaw, the way the sunlight caught in the strands of his ink-black hair. Nil's chest rose with a quiet ache—an ache that did not yet have a name. It was not longing, nor admiration alone. It was something deeper. Something dangerous.
A kind of reverence reserved only for those who were never meant to be touched.
Achara tilted her head, her keen eyes narrowing playfully. "P'Nil... where are you lost?"
Nil's ears turned pink. He straightened slightly. "Nowhere."
Achara didn't press. She only smiled, something knowing in her expression. Her voice turned soft, tinged with something wistful.
"My brother is like the wind," she said. "He doesn't stay in one place for long. In a month, he's home for maybe seven days—if that. Always busy. Always traveling. He rarely lets anyone close... has only a few friends. But now—it's been four weeks. He's still here."
Nil turned toward her, confusion in his eyes, but something else stirring too.
"Why are you telling me this?"
Achara's smile didn't fade. It softened instead, becoming something older than her years. "Because," she said, "it's your right to know."
"...My right to know what?"
But before her answer could fall, a staff member's voice broke the stillness.
"Khun Achara, Khun Nil—Director Kim is calling for the veneration."
Achara dipped her head in acknowledgment. She turned to Nil with a smile and whispered, "We'll talk later," before walking off to rejoin her brother.
Kao stood tall at the center of the courtyard, his presence crisp and commanding in his tailored attire. The scent of incense curled around his silhouette like a protective veil. His hands were clasped in front of him, poised and unreadable—but his eyes had followed Achara from the moment she parted from Nil.
She came to stand beside him, graceful and composed.
Kao leaned toward her, voice low. "What were you talking to him about for so long?"
Achara turned to face him, her face serious.
"You should propose to him," she said.
Kao blinked. "What?"
Her voice didn't waver. "Before it's too late."
He stared at her, startled. "You... knew?"
Achara gave a soft laugh—not mocking, but tender. "Brother, I love you. I can see it in your eyes. Whenever you look at him, it's like watching someone who's been starving finally see a table full of food—and still too proud to take a bite."
Kao's breath caught. He glanced away. "You're not... ashamed of me?"
His voice was thin, almost childish, as if asking a question he had once asked silently, a thousand times, and never dared speak aloud.
Achara looked at him, and her answer was immediate.
"Never."
The word struck like a bell—clear, unwavering, and resolute.
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him tightly, pressing her face into his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice breaking. "I should've seen it. I should've asked. You were always strong, always calm—I thought you never needed anyone. I didn't know you were carrying it all alone."
Kao froze.
Then, like ice thawing under the warmth of spring, his hands rose—hesitant at first—then held her close. His jaw trembled, but no tears came. Only silence. Heavy, holy silence.
"You're my hero, Brother," Achara whispered, her tears slipping into the folds of his coat. "And you always will be."