Page 38 of Doubts of the Egoist (Egoist #3)

“Why did you follow Yugo?” Kuon ventured the question, not hoping for an honest answer. “I can’t believe you didn’t have better options. Someone with your talents surely could have secured a brighter future.”

“Didn’t you listen to my story? Yugo is family.”

Family…

Silence fell. Kuon had questions, a lot of them, but struck by a sudden realization, he sealed his lips. With every answer Greg provided, a mental noose tightened around his neck, anchoring him to this place, to Yugo. It made him more and more involved in Yugo’s life.

“Kuon?”

“Hm?” Kuon lifted his gaze to meet the impenetrable black eyes.

“Why did you come here?”

“Why?” It was the same question Yugo had asked him, so Kuon chuckled as the answer came to mind, making the following words even truer. “Because I had no choice.”

“I thought better of you.” For the first time, Greg scorned him. “You either lie to me or to yourself. Spare us both the hypocritical excuses that you had no choice, or that you didn’t know what kind of person he was. He didn’t force you, not this time.”

“That’s not what I meant…” Greg’s reproach only made Kuon shake his head and lower his chin. “He didn’t force me. Still, coming with him was the only option I had. You see, I couldn’t have done differently.”

Kuon didn’t know how to explain it better.

Even this tiny confession set his cheeks ablaze.

There was no way he could say something as lame as I want to be with him or he makes me feel good .

It was even more embarrassing to admit that after years of depression and months of suffocating darkness, Yugo made him feel alive.

He attracted Kuon like a moth to a flame, promising what wasn’t there.

Thankfully, Greg didn’t press for more. His eyes softened, and he sighed. “I see. Then what’s the problem?”

Kuon’s gaze dropped to his nails. Short and rimmed in mourning black from digging in the clay, they couldn’t look more unkempt. He spotted a hangnail and picked at it, staining his fingertips red.

“Tsk… I don’t know how to stay.” Kuon surprised himself with spontaneous honesty. He didn’t expect Greg to solve his problems. Yet, for some reason, he continued, “I don’t know how many compromises I’d have to make to remain by his side, and at what cost.”

“Are you talking about your life?”

Kuon shook his head.

Greg’s explanation made him realize that his morals and principles weren’t as strong as he thought when it came to Yugo.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he had no right to blame Yugo.

In his place, he’d probably do the same thing.

After all, he had shot at the Gardener when he was a policeman, and it hadn’t even been personal. Wasn’t that hypocritical?

“I’m afraid I’d lose myself if I stayed, and I’m not even sure it’s worth it.

” He nodded toward the screen. “This is just the tip of the iceberg; I reckon a huge one. I know who he is and what he’s capable of.

I wish I didn’t because it makes me wonder how much of him, of this, I can accept and how it would define me. ”

“I don’t think anyone expects you to accept everything, least of all Yugo.”

Kuon flinched.

“Yeah? What’s expected of me?” He almost blurted out, “ To warm his bed?” but bit his tongue under Greg’s disapproving gaze.

Kuon grimaced, embarrassed by his sudden outrage which only revealed his insecurities and weakness.

Blood pounded in his ears, and his cheeks burned.

Why did I start this conversation? I’m pathetic…

“Forget it. You’re getting married in a month. How could you possibly understand?”

Jaw aching with helpless rage, Kuon stalked to the door, but Greg only had to reach out an arm to bar the way. Kuon stumbled back, glaring.

“Nothing is expected of you, and that’s a good thing,” Greg said calmly.

“You can be as involved in his life as you want. He left you here, but it was you who opened the boxes. Whatever your role, or no role at all, it’s up to you.

He gave you a choice. But if you can accept what you’ve seen, that will be more than enough. ”

The bait hides the hook, Kuon thought as he huffed out a short laugh. A hydra named Doubts reared one of its heads. He needed more time to process, but he also wanted to see Yugo. He wanted Yugo to dispel his doubts, not Greg.

“Why are you answering my questions and not Yugo? Where the hell is he?”

“Business.”

“Business…” Kuon echoed. He couldn’t help but connect Greg’s words with Yugo’s desire to introduce Kuon to his business partners.

The more Kuon knew, the fewer chances he had to stay out of the S-Syndicate’s business, especially since he didn’t think he could hold Yugo’s interest for long with such a body.

He still wasn’t sure how serious Yugo was about him or how long this relationship could last. If one day it ended, what kind of role would he have to play when leaving was no longer an option?

Another of the hydra’s heads rose, and Kuon shook his head.

“I should have thought of this earlier,” Kuon whispered, squeezing his eyes lightly to relieve the itch.

Getting angry was unwise; in this situation, he only had himself to blame.

Yugo couldn’t change his past, and he surely wouldn’t change his ways to accommodate Kuon.

But after the prolonged emotional vacuum, the feelings Yugo stirred intoxicated and blinded him.

It was his own fault for getting carried away and living one day at a time without any care for the future.

Kuon’s common sense told him to leave. There were too many obstacles to expect any kind of happily ever after.

Could people like Yugo have one at all? Kuon grimaced, trying to imagine it.

His intuition predicted that this relationship could only end in murder or total, blind submission, where Kuon would no longer care who Yugo killed, or why.

“You don’t have to bite off more than you can chew,” Greg said, his usually booming, loud voice softened, sounding almost pleasant.

Kuon scowled. He knew how it worked. As soon as something was justified, it became easier to swallow.

If he accepted one thing, he would acquiesce to the rest, given time.

By justifying the murders, Greg attempted to build the moral code he’d mentioned and to help absolve the rest of Yugo’s actions, making everything the Black Duke did seem acceptable.

Greg’s story didn’t make Yugo any less of a murderer, but it made Kuon understand him just enough to want to stay by his side. This is already happening.

“I thought Yugo was the serpent in the Garden of Eden, but now I see it’s you,” Kuon muttered, making Greg chuckle. “How does it feel to tempt a mind?”

“You flatter me, lad.”

“Do I?” Kuon hung his head, realizing how fucked up this was. I just watched him murder a bunch of men, and all I can think about is how much I wish he had told me this story himself. When did I become this shallow?

A splitting headache pressed against his temples.

He was too tired to form a coherent, rational thought.

It would be best if he left. Away from this place and the emotional pressure, he would have a better chance to process everything, calm his emotions, and make a logical decision.

Yet, he didn’t move, and this time it wasn’t Greg’s arm that held him back.

God, this is stupid. I’m stupid. Kuon glanced at the bullet hole in the ceiling.

Yugo’s voice haunted him. “ Was it even real? Any of it?”

Why else would I be here, talking to your bodyguard, looking for reasons to stay despite everything? The conditioning doesn’t last that long, does it?

But Greg is right. I can’t stay here without becoming a part of Yugo’s life.

It will catch up with me whether I want it to or not.

If I don’t make my own terms, Yugo will make them for me, but he won’t give me the option of leaving.

He had no idea where to start, except to talk to Yugo, but he wasn’t there.

Tired of wavering, and wanting to take his mind off the heavy thoughts, he asked, “Is there a way to get this translated? All of it?”

Greg shook his head, eyes boring into Kuon. “What for? It’s been seventeen years.”

“Is that a no?” Kuon’s voice gained strength and confidence. “Fine, I’ll use a machine translation…”

“Hmm…” A slight tilt of Greg’s head let the light glint off his black, impenetrable eyes. “Didn’t you want to leave?”

Kuon ruffled his hair, not knowing how to explain himself. In order to decide whether to stay or go, and whether the game was worth the reward, he had to look Yugo in the eye and ask the question that had been bothering him for days.

Also, within minutes, the case had become personal. He needed to know what had happened to Yugo to understand him better. “I’ll stay. At least until he’s back, so give me something to keep my mind occupied or I might just open the rest of the boxes.”

Greg nodded, face stretching into a grin. “Fine, but I can only manage a couple of pages a day. What do you need first?”

“Those.” Kuon pointed to the screens. “I want to know who they were.”

Greg pulled some files out of the box and exited the room, leaving Kuon staring at the autopsy folder.

After a few minutes of listening to the system unit buzz, Kuon grabbed his smartphone, installed the Italian keyboard, and activated the speech-to-text feature.

He replayed one of the videos, watching the phone’s transcript of the rapid Italian speech.

He hoped that running it through machine translation would help him understand at least parts of the interrogation.

Leaving the smartphone transcripting the video, he scooped up the box with the remaining files from the desk, grabbed some stationery on his way out of the bedroom, and entered the white room for the first time in years.

His heart didn’t stutter when he kicked the mattress aside, pinned the first photo to the center of the wall, and scrawled the name “Flavio Santelli” underneath with the black marker.