Page 79 of Doubts of the Egoist
Kuon’s face warmed. The first impulse to protest rose in his throat, ready to burst out, but he stifled it. Yugo would never believe him in such a situation. Moreover, Kuon couldn’t find a single reason to explain anything, especially after a week of silence, followed by Mio’s appearance and the kiss.
When Kuon took too long to answer, Yugo taunted, “Did your hole get so cock-hungry without me that you went looking for a replacement? How did you like him? Better? Worse? Should I offer him to join us next time?”
Voice trembling with wounded pride, Kuon said, “If you came here to insult me, the door is over there.”
Yugo’s harsh hand grabbed his elbow and pulled him off the bed, as if Kuon weighed nothing. “Don’t provoke me. Move.”
Kuon’s backside slipped off the sheets onto the hard, cold floor. The height of the bed barely reached Yugo’s mid-shins, so the fall was more humiliating than painful. Kuon hissed and sat up with his arm wound around his bent knee, fighting indignation. A wave of anger cleared the fog from his mind and made his fists clench with the urge to wipe the sneer off Yugo’s lips and avenge the insult. The fight would probably make him feel better, as the overpowering desire to hurt Yugo physically and mentally smoldered him alive.
He wanted Yugo to feel everything Kuon had felt when he’d seen Mio in his arms tonight. Such a wish felt stupid, childish, and immature, and if he was honest with himself, useless. He doubted he could hurt the Black Duke at all.
He had to break up with Yugo, make it clear that things had changed and that he had moved on. To convey the thought that it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Yugo got one thing right—he shouldn’t cover up or apologize. He didn’t do what he did out of revenge, so he didn’t want to insult Yugo with a lie or himself with shame. He didn’t want to pretend that nothing had happened. More importantly, he couldn’t let Yugo misunderstand him further, because with every blow, with every cruel word, Yugo’s respect for him would diminish.
He forced himself to calm down and peer at the emotionless face. There was no point in disgracing himself by displaying ugly, unrequited emotions. Enraging Yugo wouldn’t help his case, and less than anything, Kuon wanted to cause Rick even more problems.
Fuck, Rick…His eyes flicked to the door. The apartment was too quiet, except for the whining of the puppies pacing in the cage.
The fact that the Black Duke was at Rick’s place but his friend was nowhere to be seen finally caught up with him. Kuon glanced at Yugo’s swollen cheek and bloodied knuckles.
“Since you came here, I assume you’ve got something to say. I’m listening, but do me a favor, put my mind at ease and tell me Rick’s alive and well.” Despite his heart stuttering, Kuon tried to sound calm and collected.
An insulting backhand slap across Kuon’s cheek was hard enough to make something pop in his jaw, but the pain zappingthrough his skull cut through the grogginess.
Through the red haze of anger and pain, Kuon glared up.
Yugo struggled to keep his slipping mask of dispassion, but a telltale flush crept into his cheeks. The muscles in his jaw bulged, and a low voice broke through his pale lips. “Stop provoking me. Get dressed, or I’ll drag you out of here naked. Last warning.”
“I’m not—” A shadow eclipsed the doorway, cutting him off.
Relief surged through Kuon, only to vanish the next instant. As if seeing something in Kuon’s eyes, Yugo whirled to the door.
Rick’s bloodshot eyes flashed with hate, teeth gleaming on his red face. He growled and lunged at Yugo, a kitchen knife glinting in his hand, its blade pressed flat against his inner wrist.
Time slowed in Kuon’s mind. In movies, fights dragged on for minutes; in reality, less than a minute. Knife fights ended even faster. No matter how skilled or trained Yugo was, a single stab could send him to the hospital or straight to hell.
Kuon wanted to part ways, but not like this.
Rick flicked the blade forward, aiming at Yugo’s chest. Kuon’s heart dropped.
“No, Rick!” Palm on the floor, he leaped forward, assessing every last detail of both opponents, deciding what to do next.
Their weight and height difference, the length of their limbs and fingers, and even the knife—all tipped the scales in Rick’s favor. Logically, Yugo needed Kuon’s protection. So whydid Kuon want to shield Rick with his own body?
He took a closer look. Something was wrong with Rick. His leg dragged, his torso tilted off balance. His movements were slower than usual, as if he were fighting through the same feeling of sluggishness that Kuon had experienced before.
Cold sweat broke out on Kuon’s back as the knife sliced through the air, a close shave from Yugo’s stomach. Rick didn’t take the chance to cut his legs or arms. He went for the kill, finishing the lunge with his usual short jab combo.
In such close quarters, it was physically impossible to keep any distance. From his movements, Yugo understood that his only chance to win was to stay out of Rick’s reach.
Yugo’s elegant black shoes with shiny toes looked strangely out of place as he tried to break one of Rick’s knees with his heel. His square black cufflink glinted as Yugo lunged and grasped Rick’s wrist.
Rick switched the knife to his other hand and thrust the blade forward, aiming under Yugo’s ribs, but only causing his opponent to scoot aside.
How the hell did it come to this? And why?Kuon watched Yugo move with severe brutality. There was none of the playfulness Kuon knew from their sparring, no lazy drag in Yugo’s punches. This was no friendly sparring match or game of dominance. It was simply a way to eliminate a problem.
Rick hissed, drawing Kuon’s attention to himself and his battered body. He rubbed the bloody line on his neck with bloodless fingers. It told a gruesome tale of an attempted strangulation, painting a vivid picture of preceding events in Kuon’s mind.
The chilling realization that he was watching a murder in progress made his stomach churn. But before he could recover from the shock, Rick attacked again. Pummeling Yugo with high and low kicks, he accompanied his onslaught with hooks and uppercuts, their reach extended by the length of his blade. His every move left openings for Yugo to grab and throw him to the ground—something that would have ended both the fight and Yugo’s life in seconds. The Black Duke refused the fatal bait.
