Authors note: I am really, really sorry about the wait! It has been crazy with school lately, but now I am back, and I´ll try to be better next time! :D Hope you´ll like the chapter!
PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!...it´ll make my day:))))
ScarlettBelle87: Thank you so much for leaving another review, that really means a lot, and I am really sorry for the late update! Fantastic that you think his personality in this is appropriate, even though it is out of character as far as the typical Kai is portrayed. I find it quite interesting to explore his darker self, which you will most definitely see more of very soon! Rest assured, next name will be revealed;))) Thanks again!:D
AngelYao: Thank for leaving another review, it totally makes my day knowing that people are actually reading! Great that you liked the chapter, and hopefully I´ll update sooner next time!:DD
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When the sea turns crimson
Chapter 8
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-Shikoku Island, Japan, January 2010-
Some say that our lives are defined by the sum of our choices. But it isn't really our choices that distinguish who we are. It's our commitment to them.
I found the silent darkness of the room oddly comforting. It was a sense of loneliness that I could appreciate, that I cherished. My resolve was stronger than ever, and I felt determined, focused, although there had been plenty of distractions as of late. Outside I could hear the winter-winds wash over the beach down below and the surrounding forest and buildings. And then, the light, almost unmistakable sound of bare feet in the snow. She was very silent, her movements barely audible even to my keen senses. However she was not silent enough.
With a certain excitement I sat up from where I had been resting on the futon. A cold gust of wind and snowflakes caused goosebumps to rise on my arms as she entered, quickly sliding the door shut behind her. She was barefoot, only wearing a kimono like bathrobe in dark, rich colors. I knew from experience that there wouldn´t be anything underneath.
As expected there wasn´t, and she slipped out of the thing like it was second nature, sliding quietly underneath the duvet, smooth, tanned skin pressing against my side. We looked at each other for a few silent moments, before I pushed her down on her back, our lips locking. This had become routine, on a nightly basis, which was fine by me.
Our bodies seemed to melt together as we found a comfortable rhythm, all coherent thoughts disappearing in the matter of seconds. She was beautiful, all muscle and slim curves in the right places. I had come to appreciate the hot pink hair, as it flowed down her shoulders in a thick, silky mess. Just as those slanted golden eyes set her apart, it gave her an exotic look, complimented that almost catlike slyness that was so often visible in her golden depths.
Did I love her?
I wasn´t sure, couldn´t quite grasp what loving someone entailed. What I however did now was that she understood me, and that she wanted me for who I was. She wasn´t interested in changing me, and that was something that had earned her, to a certain extent, my trust. Because I knew, with disturbing certainty, that she loved me, for whatever reason.
She rested her head on my chest afterwards, oozing feral contentment, literally purring as I absently drew circles across her bare back. I shuddered pleasantly as she trailed my jaw line with her fingers, feeling the stubble, before placing a kiss on the tip of my nose. Our eyes locked, hers curious, sly, but with an underlying tenderness that seemed to grow day by day. Mine were thoughtful, confused but still appreciating. We were getting closer, both physically and emotionally, and to a certain degree that frightened me.
"You are thinking again", she playfully scolded me, curling up against my side, playing with the hair at the base of my neck.
"Hn".
She chuckled lightly.
"Don´t "hn" me Hiwatari, you know I hate it when you do…".
I smirked ever so slightly, placing my hands on her hips when she moved, straddling me. She bit her lip, tilting her head to the side in contemplation.
"What will you do when you go back", she questioned, hands coming to rest on my stomach.
I inhaled shakily at the touch, a familiar flare of desire awakening.
"Ruin them", I said in a low, strained voice.
"I can help you", she whispered softly, leaning forward, her breasts pressing against my chest, her face against my neck.
"You know I would anything for you!"
I studied the ceiling closely. It was made from polished wood, and even in the dim light of one lonely rice-lamp it gleamed in a complex variation of mocha, caramel and maroon. Japan appealed to me. I felt more at home here than I had ever done in the US, as strange as that may sound. I suppose the years before Voltaire Hiwatari´s betrayal had been pleasant enough, but sadly I remembered very little of them. With a sigh I reverted my attention back to her, carefully touching one thick silky strand of her hair.
"I need to do this alone".
"It will be easier if I am with you", she insisted, eyes all soft and tender again.
I shrugged, jaw clenching. Part of me hated it whenever she questioned me like this, but all the same there was also something vaguely arousing about the confrontation in itself. It made me feel things I wasn´t used to, things that made me curious.
"Perhaps I don´t want it to be easy".
She sat up again, eyes narrowing. I knew that I had made her angry, like I always did when she brought up the subject. It was making things difficult between us, and even though it shouldn´t it was bothering me. I didn´t want her involved, didn´t want her in the line of fire so to speak. She sneered, her sharp, white teeth glinting. I loved watching her when she was angry, loved the fire, the rage and spunk that was so easily awakened.
We looked at each other. No more words were spoken that night. There was no need to. My commitment was unquestionable, just like hers. Only I didn´t understand what she saw in me, why she was willing to give her life to someone who had dedicated his to one thing, and only one…..revenge.
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-June 2012, present time-
I smiled pleasantly at Hillary, giving her the expected kiss before taking her arm, pushing all dark and ominous thoughts away for the time being. She was in a good mood, and kept steeling glances at me when she thought I wasn´t looking. We had only had sex once, but this seemed to have defined our relationship in her book, which was fine by me. This had after all been my plan all along. Officially we were now a couple, which opened up for numerous possibilities. My connection to the Hiwatari´s had been strengthened, and the happier I made Hillary the closer I´d get, hopefully close enough to be able to go straight for the kill, eventually.
First things first, Dr. Judy Tate.
The event looked flawless, as was to be expected. It was hosted at a luxurious hotel, and the entire building had been closed off for today, in order to accommodate Dr. Tate and all her upscale friends and acquaintances. We were greeted with Champaign at the entrance, and I forced another sweet smile when Hillary looked up at me. She looked good, in a flowy white dress and sandals, her hair loose and curly for the occasion. That was something I at least could appreciate about her, that she was if nothing else decent looking. And of course, the sex had been great, even if it would never bee the same as with her…..I suppressed a sigh, absently leading Hillary to our seats.
"So", Hillary casually opened, her fingers tightening fractionally around my arm.
Tense, but why? Clearly she had something she wanted to share that made her anxious.
"Voltaire and my mother wanted to invite you over to dinner tomorrow".
The words were spoken very quickly, and with an uneasy edge to her voice. Perhaps she was afraid that I would decline? I wasn´t sure, but either way her nervous demeanour was somehow caused by my late grandfather, and I was instantly curious. In addition to the fact that I had to get closer to them somehow, and as it were, the possibility had just presented itself.
I smiled pleasantly at her, giving her a light kiss on one check.
"I´ll be there", I responded softly, only a hint of cool satisfaction audible in my voice.
She lit up immediately, beaming.
"Fantastic, I am really looking forward to properly introducing you Tyson!"
I forced another uncharacteristically sweet smile, briefly wondering when, if ever, it would stop irritating me whenever people referred to me as Tyson Granger. Especially considering the fact that the real Tyson Granger was currently with Kenny, probably keeping an eye on things after having hacked all the security cameras. Not a comforting thought. Still, I had to do something about him. So long as he was here he was a liability, a big one.
Sure, Kenny was keeping an eye on him, but there was only a matter of time. Soon he would get curious, start wandering around, become part of the community, and thus he would inevitably attract attention. Because the moment he accidentally introduced himself as Kai Hiwatari, grandfather would be alerted, and my carefully laid plans would get much more complicated.
We sat down in our designated seats, and I pushed all frustrations over Tyson´s presence away for the time being. More drinks were served, and four more people sat down by our table. I recognised them immediately. Socialites Johnny and Michael, two arrogant pricks with no finesse whatsoever, Robert, a rich German with a summer residence in the Hamptons. He at least was half decent, albeit a true snob. And then there was Bryan, whom I didn´t really have any relation to at all. Hillary seemed to know him though, although it was clear she didn´t like him. Apparently he was head of security at the Hiwatari manor. What he was doing here I had no idea. I filed this away for later, intent on further contemplation.
Bryan grinned creepily at me after introducing himself, and I bared my teeth without smiling in response.
"Well, well, well, little Hillary is a lucky girl", he said, winking.
Robert looked vaguely offended, even though the remark was directed at me, while Johnny and Michael merely continued their earlier discussing about Dr. Tate´s hot ass. In my opinion it wasn´t hot at all.
"Not as lucky as me", I said, noticing that Hillary´s bad mood disappeared in an instant.
Bryan raised an unimpressed eyebrow, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.
"I for one don´t think so".
A flare of irritation caused my eyes to narrow dangerously. Fine, Hillary was right in not liking this guy, he was a jerk, albeit a useful one. As head of security he was bound to know things no one else did. Things I wanted insight in.
"Hn" I responded offhandedly, my expression communicating quite clearly that this discussion was over.
The program was simple enough; drinks, then a presentation performed by Dr. Judy Tate, seeing as this was her event. Afterwards a grand dinner would be served, and we would graciously donate millions of dollars to help the care of children with psychiatric problems. The irony of it all wasn't lost on me. I wondered where her dedication had been when I was first put under her care; It took most of my self-control to avoid scowling, white hot rage threatening to tear me apart from the inside.
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"You have to stop lying about these things Kai, otherwise I can´t help you", the woman told me, voice overbearing.
Wave upon wave of frustration hit me straight in the face, along with the realization that whatever I told this woman she would still accuse me of lying. She looked expectantly at me, lips pursed in disdain.
It was obvious what she was thinking. What she would do if I yet again tried to tell her my version of what was happening. She would write something in her book, give it to the other doctors, and they would lock me up again, perhaps for good. It was with a sense of deep sadness that I lowered my eyes to the floor, hiding the rage that was threatening to drown me.
It was then that I realized my predicament, understood that sometimes the truth must give way to lies and deception. Something was changing in me, breaking. From this moment on I would play along. Someday I would get back at them for what they had done, and I was looking forward to it.
If they were planning to be sly then so was I.
"I am sorry doctor Tate. You are right, I lied".
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Hillary squeezed my hand, pulling my thoughts away from the abyss in an instance. I couldn´t slip, not here not now. My time would come, eventually. If I lost my cool now I would ruin everything, and that was not an option. Rage is a difficult thing, betrayal even more so. That being said anger can be a potent weapon, if directed, harnessed, it will destroy everything that stands in its way, including Dr. Tate.
"She is an amazing woman don´t you think?" Hillary questioned, smiling and looking around at our lavish surroundings.
Of course she would think that. She was a patient after all, along with several of the other people present.
"It is very impressive, what she has accomplished", I said, voice surprisingly sincere.
Just then said person took the stage, and an exited murmur washed through the crowd. She looked good, immaculately dressed in a tight knee length dress, not a hair out of place. The white toothpaste smile was in place, gold glittered discretely in her ears and on her ring finger. To my surprise Thomas Tate was seated front row, a fake smile plastered across his pasty face. Emily York was nowhere to be seen; obviously. I had watched the footage of their confrontation with badly contained satisfaction. Dr. Tate had been furious upon finding her, immediately jumping to the conclusion that she was there for a secret meeting with her husband. Mr. Tate on the other hand was certain that Judy had been the one to beat Emily unconscious. Needless to say they were furious with each other, and after today there would be no further attempts at keeping up appearances.
When I was done there would be no more appearances to keep up.
"Welcome everyone! Welcome!" Dr. Tate opened, smiling even wider.
A brief round of applause broke out and she seemed to almost swell with pride over the attention. Hillary was paying attention, fiddling with her wallet and clearly contemplating how much she should donate. With an impatient sigh I leaned back, discreetly retrieving my phone from one pocket.
"I am delighted to see you all here, as you know this is my lifes work and also a cause that is very close to my heart!"
A few more unimportant pleasantries were exchanged. I was unusually tense, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, and when the presentation began I felt cool excitement wash through me. Finally. She droned on and on about the charity. What the money was being used to, how she helped the children in question and why they needed help. Every now and then she moved on to the next slide, and people would applaud after she had said something particularly grand or touching. It made me sick.
Dr. Tate made an artful pause to look pointedly at everyone. She was preparing to show her little movie, like she did every year. The one displaying the clinics she had built and all the children that were now living the happily ever after because of her.
I texted Kenny.
Dr. Tate smiled.
"And now I would like to show you a little piece that explains exactly what this charity is all about".
The slide changed, and Hillary´s face appeared on the screen. She was crying, her mascara leaving black spots around her eyes.
"I just…just don´t fit in….no one likes me…..", she sobbed, hiding her face in her hands.
Dr. Tate stared at the clip in confusion. Hillary looked horrified next to me, moving to get up. I got a hold of her arm at the last moment, pulling her into a protective embrace as people turned to look at her. The image changed and Julia Fernandez´s face filled the screen, all blue-black from being beaten by her FBI husband, Boris Balcov.
"I don´t know what to do, he is a terrible, terrible man!"
Next up was Emily York, complaining about her recent divorce, and then Dr. Tate´s own recorded words after the patient had left, stating that she found Emily to be an ignorant, spoiled brat. At this point things finally seemed to register, and people started leaving, looking angry, stone-faced, or heartbroken, like Hillary and Julia Fernandez. Face after face appeared on the screen, revealing secrets, fantasies; the tings you only discuss with your psychiatrist. Dr. Tate was trying to stop the film from playing, but to no awail. It was too late for that, far too late.
"What is happening! Someone STOP THIS!" She shrieked, angry, red blotches of colour appearing on her face.
A horrified technician was fiddling with the equipment, while more staff was coming to Dr. Tate´s aid even though there was nothing they could do. Hillary was crying her heart out, ruining my shirt, but I didn´t care. Dr. Judy Tate was ruined, and she knew. I could see realization dawn on her as she looked out at the rapidly shrinking crowd, her mouth opening and closing in shock as someone started shouting obscenities in her direction. Cold satisfaction filled me as I took in the scene, and I allowed myself one last look before I followed Hillary outside.
"NO, wait, please! I didn´t do this! Don´t leave!"
Judy Tate´s voice disappeared behind me, and I pulled Hillary close, faking a loving embrace with narrowed eyes.
Julia Fernandez was walking right in front of us, Boris Balcov holding her arm in an iron grip, face tight. His fingers were leaving red marks on her tanned skin, and I watched as they disappeared into a black limousine waiting just outside the hotel entrance. No doubt was she in deep shit. Boris Balcov was a brutal man, sadistic even. He was the kind that blended in, that hid his true self behind a smile and a soft voice.
I smiled darkly. He was next on my list.
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For some, commitment is like faith. A chosen devotion to another person or an intangible ideal. But for me, commitment has a shadow side, a darker drive that constantly asks the question:
How far am I willing to go?
