Page 30 of Doubts of the Egoist (Egoist #3)
“Please, turn it off,” the Black Duke said quietly beside him, distracting him. “Kuon, just once, listen to me. Stop. It won’t change anything. Ask me, and I’ll tell you what happened. I won’t lie to you.”
Kuon ignored him, watching the scene unfold.
Beaten and raped, Kuon shook with fever as he begged his rapist not to leave. The cruelest person in Kuon’s life caressed his wet hair before warning him, “Don’t play with me, you hear?”
His former self didn’t look like he heard, but he let go. Yugo went out and came back, a basin in his hand.
Chills ran up and down Kuon’s spine, making every hair stand on end as he watched Yugo cleanse his rectum with a bottle of solution. His well-practiced treatment of internal injuries unsettled Kuon, suggesting it wasn’t the first time Yugo had done this.
What terrified Kuon was not the cruelty, but this eerie kindness. The thought that had plagued him before resurfaced. After all, he is always kind to me when I’m hurting. He forced a smirk to hide his wince.
Why the hell am I so upset? I always knew it. But to see himself fall for Yugo’s tricks was distressing. Dark red, burning anger mixed with his blood.
“Kuon…” Yugo whispered in time with his icy hand that scalded Kuon’s forearm, fingers drawing a circle on the inside of his wrist. Kuon jerked as if struck by lightning.
Their glares clashed, lingering. The corners of Yugo’s mouth hooked down.
A thick vein swelled on his forehead; another popped up under his eye, pulsing wildly.
Kuon saw how hard Yugo fought to leash his temper and what it cost him to reach out again.
Deep down, Kuon knew it would be easier if he just accepted it.
There was no point in angering Yugo. After all, the gray-eyed asshole was the trigger, but not really the problem.
This time, it wasn’t Yugo who sank him into the throes of misery.
It was the screen version of himself that he couldn’t recognize or accept and Yugo’s expression of cruel tenderness that he had never seen before.
But this recording made him realize he’d missed something important by having opened the files in random order.
He had to rewatch it to get his thoughts straight.
The disparity between what he saw and what he remembered was driving him crazy.
He pulled his arm away, unable to bear Yugo’s touch.
“ I’m going to turn it off now, and you’re going to let me.” Yugo reached for the monitor. Kuon swatted at his shoulder and pinned him in place with a glare.
“Stay where you are, Yugo. Don’t make it worse.”
“What. Is. My. Name?” The speakers asked twice, as if Yugo’s younger self had forgotten his own name and expected the half-conscious body in his arms to answer.
“Yugo.” Kuon heard himself say. He glanced back at the screen.
The rims of his eyes burned, his stomach churned, and he fought the urge to spit out the bitter mouthful of disappointment.
What he saw could only be Yugo’s successful attempt to bind Kuon’s emotions to him through pain, pleasure, kindness, and even a simple craving for human contact.
Overwhelmed, he was about to turn off when a cold, cruel voice drifted from the speakers, making a promise Kuon didn’t remember, “I wanted to play with you… punish you. But now, I want to ruin your world and turn it pitch black. Isolate you, so you don’t have anything else left except me.
I want to make sure your helpless fingers will only search for me; your lips will only whisper my name. And remember, it’s your own fault.”
Kuon laughed with a touch of insanity, mind refusing to process the threat. He laughed so hard, he almost tumbled forward from where he perched on the desk.
I’m such an idiot! His laughter grew louder, more desperate.
The room blurred, but he couldn’t stop. He wanted to ask “Why?”, but that would be pointless.
Yugo did it because he could. Because the half-conscious Kuon begged for it.
Breathless, he managed to hiss, “Wow… you sure do keep your promises. Congratulations on your success, Master.”
Yugo winced. “I can’t change the past, nor can you. If I could, I would have done it differently, but things have changed. I’ve changed. Trust me a little, and I’ll prove it to you. Leave the past in the past.”
Yugo’s honey-toned baritone, soft-spoken words, open palm, sincere eyes, and attitude so different from the violent one on the screens, made Kuon want to take him up on his offer.
Believing that Yugo had changed was easier than accepting that he’d been played again.
The Black Duke coaxing rather than forcing also supported his words.
“I’ll make you feel good. I’ll make you forget. I can give you what you need. Isn’t that enough?”
Kuon bit his lower lip in thought, then kissed his teeth, realizing that he could not accept the offer. Even if he took Yugo’s hand now, his mind would stay trapped in this room. Ignoring it wouldn’t make those thoughts vanish.
Maybe, just maybe, Yugo was only kind and patient now because Kuon was still recovering. He hated that he couldn’t let go of the thought.
He wanted, needed, to clear his suspicions, so he could either kiss Yugo with a clear heart or punch him. He would hate to pretend that nothing had happened.
Still, Kuon wanted to encourage the conversation rather than violence. He needed to explain himself.
“I won’t be able to forget just because you want me to, and it’s not something you can fix with a few sweet words or touches. I need to watch this.”
“I don’t think so. But can’t we talk somewhere else, away from all this?
” Yugo tried to reason, inching closer. “I’ll leave the door open.
You can come back anytime.” Kuon’s face must have betrayed hesitation, because Yugo went on, confidence returning to his voice.
He took another small step, looking like a tiger ready to pounce.
“You’re upset, I get it. Let me make it right? ”
The long fingers touched his elbow, moved up to his biceps. A kiss landed on the corner of Kuon’s mouth.
“You’re doing it again.” The fragile sphere of trust building around them shattered. Yugo’s physical touch in the middle of the argument seemed like a cheap trick to lure him away.
“Doing what?” Another kiss brushed the side of his nose.
“Distracting me with a touch.”
Yugo‘s hand fell to his side as he pulled away.
“What do you want me to do? Sit beside you and hold your hand while you drown in sorrow? Or should I shed a tear for your ruined innocence? What exactly should I do? Grovel for forgiveness?”
“Stop…” Kuon cringed, slipped off the desk, and shuffled away, a cold weight settling in his chest. “Please leave. I can’t have this conversation now.”
“That’s right, you can’t. That’s why I’m asking you to trust me. Take my hand.” Without breaking eye contact, Yugo stepped closer. “You can rage about it all you want later. Now, you need to rest. Your eyes are red. Have you even taken your medicine?”
“I’ll take it later.” Kuon hated himself even more when he realized that, on a subconscious level, he wanted to take Yugo’s hand.
Even now, he longed for the comfort of his touch.
Or maybe a deep-seated fear of the consequences pushed him to comply with Yugo’s demand.
Kuon didn’t know, and wasn’t that funny?
He huffed out a short laugh. Looking into Yugo’s darkening eyes, Kuon was sure that if he allowed himself to be touched, Yugo would find a way to sway his thoughts.
He would yank the ground out from under his feet and mix white and black until Kuon couldn’t tell them apart.
Yugo’s soft-spoken words had already started affecting him, and he couldn’t let himself be influenced again.
Not now, when he no longer knew what was real. “Please, leave…”
“I can’t.”
“Why? You said so yourself. It’s just the past. What are you afraid of?”
“That you will draw the wrong conclusion and believe it.”
“You should have thought about that before. When I asked you to explain everything, you preferred to play games. Now it’s too late. I don’t want your lies.”
Yugo’s head jerked to the side, his lips tightening, but he immediately relaxed his face and took a slow breath. “I never lied to you.”
Another slow step closed the distance between them. Yugo held out his hand as if trying to calm a skittish animal. That annoyed Kuon to no end, making him think that Yugo found him unreasonable. He wanted to hurt Yugo. Badly.
“You never told me the truth either.”
“Because I don’t have to explain anything to you.
It’s our past. You know what happened; you were there.
” His hand sliced through the air, a finger pointing at the monitor mount.
“But things have changed. I’m not forcing you.
You’re here because you want to be here.
That’s all that should matter. Stop dwelling on the past. Give the present a chance. ”
Kuon eyed him askance while the gears in his mind shifted.
Technically, Yugo was right. Kuon was here because he wanted to be, and Yugo had done nothing to warrant his ire.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault that Kuon’s expectations clashed with reality.
Yugo had never promised him anything, and his moral compass had always been screwed up.
Of course, he wouldn’t understand Kuon’s distress.
Hell, if someone asked Kuon to explain himself in two words, he would struggle because although nothing really happened, everything felt different.
He understood that he must seem irrational, but while watching the footage, Kuon had made too many tiny observations that needed to be reconsidered to dispel or confirm his suspicions. Yugo’s resistance to that didn’t help with his growing trust issues.
Still, a grain of doubt found fertile soil. Am I really overreacting? Should I let him explain?