Seimei's hand flew across the boy's face. Red hair fell across the boy's eyes. He would not give this man the pleasure of seeing the tears they hid.
"That lost delivery," Again, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the air. "Was worth more than you." Natsuo bit his tongue, though despite his efforts a small whimper escaped his lips. None too gently, the man's gruff hands seized a handful of the boy's hair, so that their eyes were now at the same level. Natsuo stared back with all the defiance he could muster, which was surprisingly much, seeing all the shaking he was doing inside. But, then again, it was this man who had taught him how to hate.
For a moment, Seimei simply stood there, staring into the boy's eyes. To Natsuo, the lilac orbs seemed to be probing him. "Natsuo," The sound of cool, enunciated words filled the air, as he continued to stare into the boy with that calculating gaze. "I'm beginning to think you want to return to life on the street. Is that what you want?"
Natsuo tried to hide the fear that entered him with those words. But as the memories came back to him, as all the emotions relived themselves in his head, he couldn't help but let the fear show in his eyes. For although living here as Seimei's pawn was far from perfect, life on the street was a hundred times worse. He would rather serve this heartless bastard then return to the place where he had lost his eye. He clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking. When he finally looked down, they were a ghostly white.
A knowing smile formed on Seimei's face. He knew just as well as Natsuo that the boy was dependent on him. How much Natsuo would have liked to take his hand and smack that smug grin off the man's pompous face. It seemed Seimei saw this too. "You carry such hate, Natsuo." His voice remained the usual as he continued, calm and devoid of emotion. "Hate is a poison. It can help a person survive. It can even destroy a powerful enemy. But…" His voice trailed off, his cool gaze continuing to search the boy. "If left unchecked for too long, it destroys the one who carries it." The man's eyes taunted Natsuo's helplessness from their perfect lilac frames. Slowly, Natsuo raised his fist. For a moment, he thought he could see a trace of fear in the back of Seimei's eyes. But as his fist simply hung there in the air, shaking, they both knew he couldn't do it. It was all too clear that he would rather cope with this man's abuse than risk life on the streets again. They both knew the truth. Natsuo was trapped. Trapped like an animal in a cage. Seimei's lips took on the form of a smile. Even when he smiled, his eyes remained cold.
He brought his face closer to Natsuo's, so close the boy could smell the faint scent of laundry detergent on his freshly pressed shirt. Like everything else about Seimei, it was almost too perfectly done, as if any flaws whatsoever would not be tolerated. As if mediocrity itself would not be tolerated. "This is your last chance." To Natsuo this last remark sounded like more of a death sentence than an opportunity. "If you lose this one," Natsuo knew his next words before he spoke them. "I'll kill you." There was no lie in the man's voice, no lie in those cold, unfeeling eyes.
Seimei released the tuft of red hair and watched expressionlessly as the boy collapsed to the floor. "Here." He tossed a bag of coins at the boy. "Take this to our friend on Forester Lane, along with my compliments."
Natsuo picked himself up off the floor and shoved the bad of coins into his pocket. The sound of the coins jingling was almost enough to make him sick. More dirty money. The boy honestly did not want to know what favor these particular coins paid for.
Just as he reached the door, the sound of the man's cool voice ravaged his ears. "Oh, and Natsuo." Even the sound of his voice made the boy cringe. It was too enunciated. Too stripped of emotion. Too… Natsuo searched for the word. It reminded him of the mechanical turning of wheels of a calculating mind; the precise ticking of a clock; the cool, metallic coins in his pocket. "There are many slow ways for a man to die. Remember that." As the sound of his voice died away, Natsuo found the word he had been looking for. Inhuman.
Seimei's eyes never missed much. They took in the way Natsuo dragged his feet when he walked; the walk of one without hope or purpose. They noticed the boy's eyes go strangely vacant when he spoke to him, as if part of him was off in some far away place. But most of all, he noticed Natsuo's body go stiff at his last comment, before continuing out the door and out of sight. However, what he did not see, was Natsuo's cold heart, as he silently made the same vow he did every time he came back to this place. One day, The substance being pumped through his veins felt more like ice-water as he reassured himself of these words. One day, I will spit on that bastard's grave. Ice-water blood feeding a cold heart. He smiled at the thought, the only genuine smile he had felt for a long time, as he continued to march down the alleyway to the beat of his cold, dead heart.