Page 41 of Doubts of the Egoist
There you go, resorting to threats and violence, as you always do.Kuon obeyed. Gray eyes shone with worry on the pallid face; the pupils blew, pushing the irises away to thin silver rings. Kuon thought that it was the second time he had seen Yugo frightened.
Yet he felt no compassion.
Yugo nodded and licked his lips, bringing a slight color back to them. “Say something.”
“What do you want me to say?” Kuon croaked, surprised he could still speak despite the lump in his throat.
“Anything…”
“Fine…” Kuon had no strength left to argue. If Yugo needed a chit-chat to feel better, who was he to deny him? “Thecamera likes you. You could be a porn star.”
Yugo’s head snapped back at the verbal slap. A strand of black hair fell onto his forehead, right where a vertical line furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”
“Unfortunately, I can’t appreciate my acting because watching it makes me sick.”
Yugo grimaced and combed his hair away from his face with shaky fingers. He looked at Kuon, visibly vibrating with the need to approach and silence him but didn’t dare. “Don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?” Kuon raised a brow, amazed at how much self-confidence he could display without feeling any. “I’m having a hard time understanding you. Weren’t you the one who wanted to talk?”
Yugo’s jaw set, his gaze hardening. Kuon lowered his head, unable to look at Yugo, not after watching the rape scene over and over.
He wanted to smash things and succumb to blind rage, hoping it would make him feel better, stronger, or at least something other than this devastating disappointment. But he couldn’t do that in Yugo’s presence. Showing how much the footage hurt him felt like admitting defeat. Bizarrely, while he could trust Yugo with his pleasure, he couldn’t do so with his pain. Therefore, he had no intention of making a scene or throwing accusations. It was contradictory and foolish. Still, he didn’t want Yugo to look down on him as emotional, unreasonable, or weak. In order to have this conversation, he needed time to sort out his thoughts.
“Let’s talk, okay?” Yugo raised his hands, inching closer.
“Later. I’m busy, can’t you see?” Kuon rubbed his face with both palms, careful not to touch his eyes. His foot tapped, knee bounced. He closed his eyes, seeking comfort in the erratic, involuntary movements.
“Now!” Yugo brought his palm down on the desk with a loudSLAM. Kuon didn’t flinch. Yugo fell silent, having achieved nothing. It was a good moment before he spoke, his voice rattling with poorly controlled irritation. “Turn it off.”
“Why? Aren’t these happy memories meant to be relived?” Kuon whipped his head around, pouring all the rage inside him into a glare, then turned his attention back to the screen. “Oh, maybe you’re mad that I started without you? Did you want to share the memories and I spoiled the surprise? Don’t be shy, grab a seat. We can start all over; I’ll pretend I didn’t watch them.”
“Enough. Watching this won’t change a thing.” Yugo reached for the wireless mouse, but Kuon snatched it away.
“No, let me admire your masterpiece. I need to know what you like best, so I can please you better.”
Teeth clenched, Yugo gave him a slow once-over. His body vibrated with poorly controlled rage, his hands forming fists. He looked like he wanted to wrestle Kuon into obedience, but something held him back.
“At least mute it!” Yugo demanded, then softened his tone, “Please, Kuon.”
“Your vocabulary has improved. I’m impressed. Perhaps you’ve even learned the word ‘sorry’? No, that’s unlikely. You don’t regret hurting people.” Kuon sneered, shaking his head as he felt his filter slipping. After a breath, he killed the sound. Deathly silence fell over the room.
That was strange, but without the distressing sounds, Kuon felt naked, as if he had muted not only his screams but also his determination. This small concession to spare Yugo’s mental comfort felt like a betrayal of himself. By silencing his younger self, he dismissed and diminished the past, granting Yugo a free pass for further abuse and exonerating the former.
“What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry?” Yugo rasped.
A painful constriction gripped Kuon’s throat. He could no longer trust himself with verbal answers as bitter, angry words burned on his tongue, ready to spill out. To keep them in, he gritted his teeth and shook his head, certain he would come to regret this momentary weakness if he spoke. He didn’t want a forced apology. He needed time to collect himself and process why he was feeling like this.
“Your eyes are red.” Yugo sighed and took a small step toward Kuon. “I know you’re angry, but—”
“Angry?” Kuon scoffed, meeting Yugo’s gaze. A fireball of pain ping-ponged in his chest, stinging his eyes. “No, Yugo. I’m not angry. I feel… stupid.”
“There’s no reason for that. I can explain.”
“I’m sure you can, but I don’t want to listen.” Kuon slammed the mouse down, scrolled through the files, and opened one at random. “Not now. I want to watch.”
“I see…”Yugo huffed, crossing his arms, though he didn’t look as aloof or confident as he tried to appear. “Tell me, what are you looking for? Maybe I can help?”
Every word irritated. Kuon felt his nerves coil like frayed, high-voltage wires. They sparked and vibrated, ready to snap.He needed Yugo gone before he said or did something he’d regret. He wasn’t in the right state of mind for this conversation. Not when he was about to smash the keyboard against Yugo’s perfectly straight nose.
