Page 43 of Obsession of the Egoist
KUON DIDN’T REPLY.A long few minutes passed before Yugo broke the stretched pause, his nerves tight, ringing with pressure. “Tell me about the woman.”
Kuon snorted. “There is nothing to tell.”
“Are you fucking her?”
“No.”
“Do you want to?” Yugo plucked out the lighter, flipped it around his fingers.
“Would you stop? I barely know her. She’s just grateful and feels obligated.” Kuon cringed.
“You don’t know her, yet you gave your corneas to her kid? Are you fucking with me?” Yugo leaned into Kuon.
“Stop!” Kuon said. “You see things that aren’t there.”
“Do I? You gave up on your vision as a favor for her daughter. What should I think? Are you related?”
“No.”
“Why did you give them away, Kuon?”
“Yugo, stop!” Biting his lips closed, he turned toward the window, nails scraping down the glass as if he wanted to escape.
“Tell me, or I will take the girl and run a DNA test.”
“I told you, there is nothing to tell! I was fucking scared, okay?” Kuon yelled, throwing a swift, unseeing glance to Yugo. Sucking the air through his teeth, he clenched and unclenched his fists. His voice dropped when he continued, “Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted to know?”
“Scared of what? Of seeing again?” Yugo’s mind reeled. He couldn’t understand what Kuon meant. “You want to stay blind?”
“You won’t understand.” Both palms flew in the air, then dropped to his knees as Kuon failed to come up with the answer. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I’m not ready.”
“It’s okay. Take your time. We can stay here as long as it takes.” Plucking a cigarette out of his chest pocket, Yugo lit up; swirling smoke rose from his fingertips. Nicotine soothed his nerves, taking the edge off.
“Why are you doing this? Let it go.” Kuon gulped.
“No. I need to know. What are you scared of, Kuon?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“I’m making it my business.” Warning reverberated in his voice. Grabbing the collar of Kuon’s hoodie, Yugo hauled him closer. Kuon squeezed his eyes, but the pink and brown eyelids and the short lashes were enough for Yugo’s skin to prickle. “Tell me.”
“What right do you have to ask me anything at all? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“I have every fucking right,” Yugo pressed through gritted teeth. “You belong to me!”
“You haven’t changed one bit.” Bitterness dulled Kuon’s voice.
Yugo released his collar. “Tell me.”
A pause stretched. A few times Kuon opened his lips, then bit them closed, and small furrows notched his chin.
“Everything,” he finally confessed; his dead eyes staring through the landscape. “Every morning I wake up but don’t immediately open my eyes because I hope that the last months were just a bad dream. I am scared to see nothing. I wear the bandages because this way I can linger in the illusion that once I remove them, I will be able to see again. I don’t use a stick, because it would make things real. You can’t possibly understand, but I realized that I have never been truly scared in my life, until now.”
Yugo couldn’t blink, couldn’t look away from the weak, unfamiliar grimace on Kuon’s face. The cigarette smoldered and burned his fingers; he threw it out of the window.
“Every day I wonder, what if… things go wrong? What if my body rejects the corneas? What if I can never see again? What if I am stuck in this nothingness for the rest of my life?” Kuon’s eyes closed; his chin dropped.
“So you decided to give up before trying.” Yugo’s cheek flinched, contempt rattling in his voice. Kuon’s lips quivered, his face blanched, so did his knuckles as he fisted his hoodie.
