Page 64 of Love of the Egoist

No, Yugo, it isn’t a kiss of death.A faint smile curled Kuon’s lips up when he shoved the boy forward, guiding him right into the man’s arms.

That simple move cut the tension. Yugo dashed toward the frail boy, grabbing him into his embrace. His hands fumbling up and down the bony frame, making sure the boy was unharmed.

The last hope that still trembled in Kuon’s chest died. He had nowhere to go, nowhere to return. He couldn’t imagine going back to his old life, his job. After everything that had happened, there was no going back for him. His new life, the one he had led the last months, was the illusion of his isolated brain. And now that illusion was broken. Even the white, empty room wouldn’t welcome him anymore. He’d touched the thing that Yugo, no doubt, loved the most.

His eyes bore into the worried face as Yugo pushed Mio behind his wide frame, shielding him from potential danger.

What a fucking joke…Kuon laughed, wiping the melted snow from his face with the back of his hand.

Giving a last glance to the opaque sky, dressed in the color of Yugo’s eyes, Kuon whispered, “Goodbye, Yugo!” lifted the gun to his own head and pulled the trigger.

“Noooo!” at the same time as the shot rang out, a desperate scream cut the air.

Heavy blood drops with a staccato rhythm pattered the wooden pier.

A second drop… another one…

Kuon’s strong body, not long ago filled with the indefatigable life force of youth, dropped in slow motion to the freezing decking.

The impact sent waves of air in all direction, rising the resting snow on the pier high in the air. It swirled above and gently landed back on the cooling body of the young man. His weak palm twitched, trying to squeeze a fist in an attempt to feel the soft prickles of snow melting on his hand, but failed. Glossy eyes closed, and Kuon’s limbs went limp.

EPILOGUE

THREE HOURS HAD PASSEDfrom the moment when everything went horribly wrong. Standing at the exact spot where not long ago Kuon pointed the gun at Mio’s head, Yugo gazed at the pitch-black water of the icy-cold river. Piercing wind stabbed through his white jacked and threw sharp, biting snow in his face.

He closed his eyes, remembering the weird look Kuon gave him before he pulled the trigger. Something panged in his chest and his hands formed fists.

“Kuon, why?” he mouthed, his throat tight.

He squatted down and pressed his fingers to the dried, ice-coated blood. It wasn’t hard to spot, the blood was everywhere; a thick layer covered the rotting old wooden boards.

Touching the frozen blood and feeling it melting under his fingers, Yugo caught the glimpses of the illusion as if he was touching the exact place on Kuon’s skin where the bullet had hit him.

He brought his palm to his eyes, staring at his dirt and blood covered fingers, and a rumbling growl left his lips. With all his might he hit the black board, soaked in Kuon’s blood. Then hit again and again.

The winter sky darkened with every second, and Yugo still couldn’t bring himself to leave this place. Falling on the earth, the night swallowed the forest behind the river, his car, and even the blood, covering his fingers.

TO BE CONTINUED...