Page 13 of Pursuing the Egoist
With an unhurried movement, he brought a smoke to his mouth and squeezed the filter between his lips. Fishing a lighter from his pants pocket, he struck the spark wheel. Orange flames caught the cigarette tip. He took a draw then exhaled, gray smoke clouding his vision.
The craving in his chest grew stronger.
Watching the cigarette smolder, he hesitated for another minute before stepping into the darkness. His hand slapped the switch, and cold light blasted through the space. Shaking the ashes into the ashtray resting on the monitor desk, he squeezed the filter between his teeth and approached the rack. He snatched the box labeled ‘KUON’ and slammed it on the desk, next to the keyboard. With the edge of his palm, he brushed a thin layer of dust off the lid, put it aside.
Old photographs and discs occupied the box. Some had been worn-out with time and attention. He wavered, hoping to regain his self-control, but the longer he looked into the box, the stronger the sucking feeling beneath his ribs became.
Giving up the fight, he picked up one of the pictures that showed Kuon sitting in a bar, flirting with a female bartender, fishing for information. With one arm stretched over the counter, Kuon leaned against it. His head rested on his shoulder as a cocky smile curled his lips. The other arm extended toward the bartender as if asking for something. His eyes locked with hers.
Kuon looked young and full of life. Whole. Unbroken.
Despite seeing only his profile, Yugo couldn’t miss the air of confidence surrounding him, as if he knew the woman wouldn’t resist him. Kuon had never looked at him this way. The thought was unpleasant. More so, as now he imagined Kuon smiling like this at someone else, someone Tobias had mentioned.
‘Oh, wait… I’m wrong. Someone just found him.’The words Yugo wanted to ignore pushed into his mind. Yugo loathed them, and he hated himself for getting bogged down in the swamp of his memories.
What on Earth am I doing?Nothing good will come out of this.Yugo sighed; the cigarette smoldered and scalded his lips. His jaw flexed, lips curled away from heat and his teeth unclenched; the cigarette butt dropped into the box. The tip touched the photograph. The glossy paper browned around it, threatening to catch fire.
Working on instinct, Yugo slammed his palm against the cigarette, crushing it. His skin sizzled, but he didn’t care. Brushing away the remains of the cigarette and ashes with his hand, he looked at the corroded place where Kuon’s face had been a moment ago.
For a heartbeat, the ulcerated spot was all he could see. It made him wonder if time would erase Kuon’s face from his memory just like that; If it had already erased his face from Kuon’s mind.
Is this why Kuon returned? Because I’m long forgotten?If so, Yugo wanted to remind him of his existence, and the promise he’d once made. The promise Kuon had clearly forgotten if he’d allowed someone else into his life.
“Fuck…” He tossed the photograph in the box; opening it had been a mistake. Like Pandora’s Box, it unleashed the evil in him. Instead of quenching his thirst, it inflamed his lungs with the fire of greed. He was about to put the lid back on and remove the box from the desk, when a thin brown folder, tucked into the side, drew his attention.
He grabbed it before he knew it. He opened the file, and his heart stuttered. From the dossier, a young and fearless face looked straight at him, through him.
The backside of his knee knocked against the office chair; he sat down. His canine tooth sank into the side of his thumb, as he stared into the brown, soulful eyes that stole his attention more than three years ago. The mist of memories washed over him, reviving the events that caused their paths to cross.
CHAPTER 3
THREE YEARS AGO
THE MORNING MIST,falling upon the earth behind the window, didn’t help to lift the heavy drowsiness in Yugo’s limbs. On the contrary, it cocooned and sucked him into the white silence where time didn’t exist.
Suppressing a yawn, he stared at the screen, flashing with dozens of titles speculating about world news. But even the mouse scroll, ticking beneath his finger pad with every move of his digit, entertained him more than the flashy titles designed to click-bait.
Fake, altered stories, concealed adverts, disinformation—the news perfectly represented the corrupt state the world wallowed in, therefore they didn’t capture his attention.
He rubbed his left eye with his fist, then propped himself on an elbow, slanting sideways. With his other hand, he lifted a tiny cup of ristretto to his mouth, inhaling the strong aroma. Heady and sharp, it made him anticipate the taste. Before he would yawn again, he took a sip. Burning bitterness slipped down Yugo’s throat, waking up his nerves. He was about to take another sip when his eyes found a tiny pile of folders laying on his desk. Brown and thin, they looked cheap and didn’t belong in his office.
With a sluggish movement, he tugged the pile closer and flipped the top file open. A picture of a blond man in a police uniform stared at him, accompanied by a few printed sheets of a dossier. Lifting a brow, Yugo put it aside and opened another one, then the third, and the fourth.
“Greg?” The heavy oak door flew open, and a bulky man dressed in a black baggy suit entered his office. “What’s this?”
“The officers from the Organized Crime Unit. We need to choose a ‘poster’ boy the Chief of Police needs to make the arrest. He asked to use someone new with a good reputation.” Yugo frowned, and Greg explained. “The election is coming. The mayor is running for a second term. They asked for a bigger sacrifice.”
Yugo vaguely remembered the news he’d read a few weeks ago. The mayor’s main platform for re-election was reforming the police service. He promised to eliminate corruption by forcing every officer to retake their initial qualification and psychological tests. That was laughable, given the mayor had been in Yugo’s pocket for years.
“So that’s what it is. He wants to show that his reform has proved to be effective.” Yugo smirked.
“Guess so. I think the operation will be partly recorded. They want to arrest someone. Someone important.”
“And these?” Yugo pointed to the pile of folders with his chin.
“The candidates for a media ‘hero’ to choose from. The mayor sent them this morning. His PR advisor thinks they would look good on camera. All of them have glowing backgrounds. Educated guys from good families to prove the elite quality of our police. People will love them, and from the political point of view, any of them would complement the mayor if they stood by his side.”
“Is that so…” Yugo smirked, flipping through the folders, giving the men a new, curious look. Perfect backgrounds, the best education, model-like looks, and squeaky-clean service records. Handsome, young, yet teeth-grindingly boring. He pushed the folders away. “Then make the mayor happy. Tell Gustavo to prepare a sacrifice and play any of them. You have two weeks to arrange everything. Clear?”
