Page 20 of Love of the Egoist
“When you are better, you will go down and apologize to the staff for making a mess, you hear?”
Kuon couldn’t believe his ears. He raised his eyes, full of indignation and a bruised ego, but lowered his head in a second, unable to withstand the uncompromising gaze of his captor.
Yugo took another plate from the tray, scooped some mashed potato and stew with a fork and shoved it toward Kuon’s mouth. “Open up!”
Swallowing his pride, Kuon opened his mouth. His face heated up. His ears tingled with a heavy blood rush. Taking the food from the fork, he swallowed without chewing. His stomach cramped, sickness squeezed his guts, beading his skin with icy sweat. But Yugo didn’t notice, shining with a self-satisfied smile.
He scooped some more food, purring sweetly. “See? You can be adorable when you want to be.”
Kuon flinched as if had been hit with a whip and glared at his tormentor. He’d never felt such hatred ever before.
CHAPTER 6
FROM THAT DAY ON,Yugo’s spoon-feeding of Kuon became a weird ritual. Food, on cue, was served at the same time the prisoner was given the IV, filling Kuon’s mind with the strong idea that Yugo enjoyed the process of wounding his pride.
Kuon didn’t know what to do. He hated the man’s presence, his mocking attention and the suffocating mixture of the tobacco and spicy cologne. He hated the man’s touch when Yugo fed him or force-cleaned his body with a wet cloth. Yugo’s sole existence in the same dimension as his own filled his veins with icy fear.
Kuon’s body gradually healed. He didn’t care about his bruises, but his insides hurt, and every time he needed to use the bathroom, the frustration from tearing pain and blood suffocated him.
Yugo left him some ointment, but Kuon was too proud and too embarrassed to even look at it, let alone use it. He tried his best to block those horrible memories, and using the ointment would mean giving in to the truth.
He wanted to do something, anything, just to be left alone. On the fourth day, Kuon’s behavior changed dramatically. Clenching his teeth, he acted like a spoiled brat, giving all kinds of weird orders such as telling Yugo to help him dress in a t-shirt and sweatpants, feed him, clean his body with a wet cloth. He hoped that Yugo would lose interest if Kuon stopped entertaining him, but instead of getting irritated and leaving him alone, Yugo kept smiling, irritating Kuon instead.
He wanted to bang his head against a wall.
On the fifth day, Kuon kept silent. He ate everything Yugo brought, but that was their only interaction. After he finished, he faced the wall unwilling to look at his tormentor.
Kuon knew he had to calm down. All the textbooks he’d read suggested the singular attitude—keep calm, don’t provoke your kidnapper, cooperate. But Kuon wasn’t sure he could make it. Yugo’s cheeky attitude didn’t help with the already impossible task.
Exasperation stormed in his guts threatening to burst out.
“Have you got nothing better to do? Sticking around all day long? Except maybe… was my ass so fucking good that you decided to be my personal nurse?” Kuon uttered when Yugo, wearing a smug smile, removed his IV on the evening of the sixth day.
Yugo’s brows rose and rolling laughter, erupting from his mouth, shook his broad chest.
Kuon felt terrible, lost. Seeing someone enjoying his humiliation that much plunged him into an abyss of misery.
“Something like that,” the man replied, giving Kuon a curious, evaluating look before leaving the room, taking the tall IV stand with him.
??E??
IT WENT ON FOR SEVERAL MORE DAYS. Yugo came in the mornings, spent time in Kuon’s room, giving his prisoner food and drugs, wiping his body clean. He never stayed for long and never during visits had his touch become intimate. The same ritual repeated at noon and a third time in the evening right before dinner was served.
In the days of his imprisonment, Kuon explored each and every inch of the empty white room. His brain went numb with loneliness, but every time Yugo paid him a visit, weird joy, mixed with hate and disgust, sparked in his chest. His mind realized that it was only his emotional reactions to the isolation, but he could do nothing about it. He longed for company, for a distraction.
He tried to analyze the situation, recalling his Police Academy training, even played chess in his head, but his thoughts always returned to Yugo. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t figure out what his captor wanted from him or why he was still alive.
??E??
“KUNDUZHAS FALLEN TONIGHT,”Greg said, entering Yugo’s office without knocking, his face pale and serious. He closed the door behind him and stomped toward the desk. “While the Al-Amin, along with the ILO, was fighting security forces someone took the prison. The third son of Ahmad Amin disappeared from his cell. The Al-Amin closed all roads; no one can leave the city.”
“The ILO?” Yugo asked. “They couldn’t stop the Al-Amin from taking Kunduz and decided to join them and share the fame?” He rubbed his chin and continued. “If someone took Ali, they must have already left Afghanistan. What else?”
“There is a rumor that the soldiers who took the prison were Caucasian. Some say they spoke German.” Greg lowered his head.
“Where are Tobias and Gustavo?”
“They were … invited to stay longer.”
