Page 27 of Doubts of the Egoist (Egoist #3)

“Are you going to make me wait till nightfall? Do what I tell you, or maybe you like it when I force you?” From this camera angle, Kuon couldn’t see Yugo’s smirk, but he didn’t need to, as this moment was vividly imprinted in his mind.

Footage and memory merged, compensating for each other.

As the flashbacks raced through his mind, he wanted to look away from the evidence of his disgrace, but possessed by a masochistic numbness, he could only watch himself place his bandaged hands on Yugo’s shoulders.

“What is so good about doing it with someone like me? If you like boys, find someone with smooth legs, a thin waist, and tiny hands. Or someone who doesn’t hate you. Don’t you want it to be mutual?” Kuon’s recorded voice held a hint of expectation.

He turned away from the screen, arms wrapped around his stomach in a protective huddle as his guts twisted in knots.

He knew that traumatic memories fade and blur over time, but he had no idea how much.

This was so different from what he’d remembered.

Yes, sex with Yugo was enjoyable most of the time, but he thought he fought more, hated more, struggled for longer.

Didn’t this happen in the first weeks of captivity?

“I hated it, didn’t I? Every second of it…” he breathed, turning to watch himself peer into Yugo’s eyes with a flustered expression. “Then why do I look like this?”

“You are getting aroused by touching me too. Find the answer in yourself.” Yugo said, as he put his arms around Kuon’s torso and joined their lips.

“Do something…” Kuon urged, willing for the past to change, for his former self to fight back. Instead, he watched himself close his eyes and lean into the kiss docilely. “Why aren’t you fighting?”

Kuon stared at the image through the thickening shroud of confusion and shame, unable to breathe, blink, or swallow.

I had no feelings for him back then. Why didn’t I fight?

I don’t even look scared. I look… His thoughts trailed off as he watched his younger self tilt his head and open his mouth wider to give Yugo better access.

“You will dine with me tonight,” Yugo said as he pulled away. After a long moment, his younger self opened hazy eyes brimming with need. “And from now on, you’ll shave every day. If you don’t, I will do it for you. You are scratching me.”

Kuon remembered the great satisfaction and victory shining in Yugo’s eyes when he’d looked at him right after the kiss. The man on the screen caressed Kuon’s wet lips with his thumb, then left the room.

Kuon tore a hand away from his side and touched his mouth, mimicking the touch.

He’d always remembered the time spent in the white room as full of struggle and anguish.

There hadn’t been a day when he hadn’t wanted to escape.

“Then why do I look… disappointed? I didn’t even like him yet.

Have I always looked at him that way? If that’s how he saw me, no wonder he toyed with me as he deemed fit. It’s like I begged him to continue.”

Alone in the footage, Kuon slumped to the floor, covering his head with his hands.

The footage flickered, switching to a different angle. Kuon frowned, watching himself sit on the floor, fidgeting and banging his head against the wall. It looked painfully stupid and embarrassing.

“Fuck…” A faint groan from the speakers made his stomach clench. Kuon braced himself, remembering what came next. “Why?”

The figure on screen wiped his mouth, got up, and paced the room.

“Damn you!” Kuon’s heart dropped as he watched himself slump back to the floor, unzip his jeans, and start masturbating. “Bastard.”

A sticky, burning shame blistered his soul as he realized Yugo had watched him do those things.

That Yugo enjoyed every moment of his struggle and used Kuon’s confusion to manipulate him.

Fucking with my mind must have come easily if he knew everything I was going through…

Was there even a way for me to win this rigged game?

He closed the file. The low hum of the system unit filled his ears, irritating him and making his every nerve vibrate.

He wanted to get away from it but didn’t know where to go or what to do next.

In an instant, his world changed. Nothing was the same.

Even the air smelled different, acrid as if something was burning—probably his “plastic” delusions.

In this new world, Kuon didn’t know what was real anymore.

“Why did he keep the recordings?”

His fingers found the mouse again, cursor hovering over another file. Watching the past was painful, humiliating even, but like a drug slowly killing an addict, the remaining files called to him.

For a heartbeat, he tried to convince himself to leave the room, lock the door behind him, and return to Yugo’s arms and his bed. To smile, laugh, and live his life as if he’d never been here. He snorted, realizing how ridiculous, how impossible that was.

Pandora’s box had been opened, and now he had to face all the evil he had unleashed.

It didn’t matter anymore if he got caught or if Yugo became upset to find him in this room.

Nothing mattered because all the pain, frustration, and indignation that time had dampened returned with a vengeance, forcing him to face his past. He could no longer hide from it, now that he knew with what eyes Yugo had looked at him all that time.

The cursor moved again, settling on the file with the earliest date. Kuon hesitated for a split second, unsure if he wanted to see it, then double-clicked to open it.

Twirling a cigarette between his fingers, Yugo marveled at how drastically the physical need to touch Kuon twisted his mood.

He had been snapping at Greg all day, annoyed by every little thing, when his thoughts drifted back to the sheets covering Kuon’s backside.

The sheets sat low, revealing the powerful curve of Kuon’s back, making Yugo salivate with the urge to lick every scar and mole on him, and to suck bruises on the dimples of his lower back.

Yugo no longer cared about their stupid fight or Kuon’s reluctance to enter the social part of his life.

More than anything else, he wanted to push him against the wall and lose himself in his body.

So when Greg handed him a slim, black box, Yugo couldn’t hold back a grin.

A phone was as good an excuse for makeup sex as any other.

His smile grew stronger as he strolled through the mansion toward the bedroom, but it vanished as soon as he crossed the threshold.

BA-DUMP! A violent heartbeat shattered his vision.

BA-DUMP! He approached the gap in the wall leading to the surveillance room, throat too dry to swallow.

BA-DUMP! Yugo stepped inside, and his world collapsed around him when his gaze landed on the lone figure seated in the chair.

With his face buried in his hand, Kuon didn’t look up.

Yugo didn’t need to ask questions to understand what had happened.

A dozen pieces of footage from their past stretched across the screens.

But Yugo only looked at the central display showing one scene from three different angles.

On it, the younger Kuon, biting his lips bloody, tried to reach a fork tangled in the wolf’s fur while Yugo worked hard, scissoring him with his fingers.

A lump of icy fear solidified in Yugo’s gut as his focus jumped from the rape scene to footage of Kuon fucking Lena Vogel. The black box with Kuon’s name on it stood on the desk, surrounded by a scattering of photographs and papers.

Yugo closed his eyes and leaned back against the doorframe, his initial dejection morphed into anger. Why did you have to ruin everything? Why couldn’t you just be happy?

His fingers trembled, losing their grip on the useless box. It dropped to the floor, but no one noticed it.

There was no point explaining himself, so Yugo took a deep breath and tried his luck. “Kuon, talk to me.”