Tetsuma showed up right on time, as always, but it still felt way too early to Kid. He would have delayed this conversation for years if he could.
As it was, Hiruma would be here any minute now, and that meant he'd already put it off long enough. He made another tally on the inventory, set his clipboard down, and dove into the speech he had prepared.
"Tetsuma, your family has been serving mine for generations now. You have been with me for my entire life. That's why, before all this happens, I want to set you free."
Kid looked up past the brim of his hat, up into Tetsuma's face, to gauge his reaction. It was a life-changing offer, and not one he made lightly. This was a gray area, where Hiruma could argue that Tetsuma wasn't Kid's to give away anymore. But if Tetsuma was gone by then, even Hiruma would be hard-pressed to do anything about it.
Well, to Tetsuma at least.
Tetsuma's expression didn't change notably, but his shoulders had tensed up, just a little. He was confused.
"We don't know what kind of terms the devil's going to set," Kid explained gently. "But with the state of our finances, I don't have much room to negotiate. Hiruma... is not a merciful man. If nothing else, losing the Best Quarterback title to me three years running has got to give him a bit of a grudge." He quirked his lips up, attempting to inject some humor, then shook his head. "A situation like this never ends well. I don't want to see you caught up in it."
Tetsuma processed this, and seemed to relax. "No," he said simply, and picked up the clipboard Kid had put down.
"But—"
But Tetsuma had already wandered away, to the artwork that Kid had been inventorying earlier. After staring after him for a long moment, Kid took off his hat and sighed. Trust Tetsuma to brush off a major decision like this and simply continue with his duties, as if the thought of freedom meant nothing to him.
A part of him felt grateful to have Tetsuma at his side through this, but he knew nothing good could come of a selfish feeling like that. He only hoped that he could get Hiruma to see reason—
"Speak of the devil," he muttered to himself, as he suddenly heard the sound of a very loud, very fast engine tearing its way down the road. Sure enough, from the window, he could see a red car zoom down the vast length of the estate's driveway, and come to a screeching halt by the fountain: a mounted, rearing cowboy pointing a pistol into the air, that now shot nothing. The fountain had been dry for months, though it and the other outside ornaments had been some of the last things they'd stubbornly tried to upkeep. For appearances' sake.
Hiruma emerged from the driver's seat, walked a few steps toward the house, then turned, frowned. Pointed impatiently to the ground at his feet. Instantly, the passenger side door opened, and a scrawny slave, beaten and rake thin, scrambled out and crawled over, to kneel at the position indicated.
Seemingly satisfied, Hiruma marched up the front steps and slammed open the door as if he owned the place. Which, to be fair, he all but did, at this point.
Once, a servant would have met him there. Instead, there was only Kid, who opened his mouth to speak, but got caught on the awkwardness of it. He'd never met Hiruma as anything but an equal before. Now he didn't even know how to address him.
"Tetsuma! Bring... our guest... something to drink. Whiskey?"
Hiruma nodded, and pointed to a nearby corner, at which point the scrawny slave hastily detached himself from Hiruma's heel and crawled over to kneel there, eyes downcast, balancing himself on trembling arms. For a long moment, Kid tried to convince himself that he was a good enough man to offer the slave some water at least. But there was no sense antagonizing Hiruma. Not today, of all days.
The two of them sat at the table with their glasses, Tetsuma standing rigidly in place behind Kid's left shoulder, Hiruma pulling a stack of papers from his briefcase with a grin and a flourish. "These are the terms," he said, plunking it down between them. So he wasn't even going to pretend this was a negotiation. Kid supposed there was no benefit to such niceties anyway. He pulled the papers to him and read, mumbling the important parts aloud, mostly for Tetsuma's benefit.
"...Lender, Hiruma, will pay the full amount owed by Debtor, Mushanokouji, in the amount of..."
"...Lender will take ownership of Mushanokouji Estate, along with all people, assets, and property associated... along with future income from Estate until debt and capital investment have been repaid to Lender including interest rate of..."
Kid couldn't help but let out a breath. Hiruma could have dismantled Kid's family home, had it sold for parts, if he didn't think it would be a good return on his investment. Hell, he could've done it just because, if he was feeling petty.
"...Debtor will become slave and property to Lender," Kid forced himself not to wince at that. It was no less than he expected. "Debtor will continue to run Estate and have direct and sole supervision over staff thereof..."
Kid stopped reading and looked up. Hiruma was idly twirling a pen in his fingers and drinking his whiskey, by all appearances completely uninterested in the proceedings. Even rereading the paragraph several times didn't unearth any hidden meanings he might have missed. He would be selling himself into slavery, but Tetsuma, and the other slaves, would still be under his supervision. Hiruma would own everything, technically, but in terms of direct contact, in terms of day-to-day running, and discipline...
With some effort, Kid forced himself not to look at the slave still huddled in the corner, terrified to break from a kneel, though the floor must be killing his knees by now.
The contract meant Kid would be a buffer between his own slaves, at least, and Hiruma's reign of terror. He could protect Tetsuma.
For that clause alone, it was too good a deal to pass up. And if he knew anything about Hiruma, he would bet that Hiruma knew it too.
For the sake of due diligence, he finished reading the rest of it, summarizing the relevant bits for Tetsuma. He had barely gotten to the end before Hiruma shot the pen at him with a flick of his wrist. If Kid had considered trying to haggle with him before, he knew there was no chance now. He couldn't risk losing what was currently on the table. He caught the pen smoothly, and signed away his freedom.
After the contract and pen both disappeared into the depths of Hiruma's briefcase, the other man downed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, and stood, beaming with glee.
Kid tensed, unsure if he needed to kneel now, mentally preparing himself for some other equally humiliating order.
Instead, Hiruma pointed to the slave in the corner. "Get him cleaned up. Wrap his wounds or whatever. I'll be back for him in an hour."
The slave looked up, wide-eyed, but Hiruma didn't spare a backward glance for any of his possessions. He only stopped at the door to add, "Watch out, he's a runner."
Then he left, chuckling to himself.