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Meister pours himself some Château Belle-Vue 2011, sitting more comfortably on the large white sofa of the living room. His company is paying for this spacious flat to be used by a single employee, surely he can enjoy some of its benefits once in a while.
He has just taken a single sip when he perceives footsteps echoing in the vastness of the apartment. Good. Sou should be down soon. From the corner of his eye he can see the young man, in a simple t-shirt and pajama pants, going down the stairs. Meister can tell he’s taking his time, assessing the situation and probably going over all the possible scenarios in his head. He’s taught the boy well, after all.
Opting for a softer approach, Meister decides to speak first as Sou goes to sit on the sofa opposite to him.
“Fancy a glass of wine?”
His tone is purposely amicable and relaxed. However, if he knows Sou enough to read him easily, the kid has gotten quite close himself to figuring out most of his own hidden intentions. This is the whole risk with disciples, you see. So Sou remains impassible, his trademark smile on his face but his eyes focused and steady.
“No thanks, dad.”
His voice is as carefree and secure as ever, yet a trained ear could discern its carefully concealed rigidness. Hmm, the boy is nervous then.
“Too bad for you kiddo! It’s a very good year and the company didn’t buy it for it to go to waste. Your friend,” the last word is painfully obviously stressed, “ain’t gonna want any?”
“Shin isn’t fond of alcohol, he wouldn’t be caught doing such an illegal thing,” his mocking tone is palpable, “plus, he’s already gone to bed. He’s sleeping like a baby right now.” Ah, so it’s just the two of them now. Perfect, the serious talk can start.
“Man, that boy sure is a wimp, ain’t he?” Meister jokes after a second sip, his eyes not leaving the other’s face.
“Ah! You can’t even begin to guess how true that is.”
“Why on Earth are you so infatuated with him then? You have some weird taste.”
Sou blinks. Once. Twice. His expression has yet to change but the older man knows better.
“…Sir?”
A little laugh escapes Meister. He puts his glass on the table, leaning his arms on his knees.
“You really thought I wouldn’t notice your lil’ … unhealthy obsession, boy? C’mon. You should know me better than that.”
It’s Sou’s turn to chuckle, as if it was the most ridiculous idea he’d heard in a while.
“Hahah, me? Infatuated with Shin Tsukimi? Shin “0.00% chance of survival” Tsukimi? With all due respects, Sir, I do have some standards. I’m honestly hurt you’d think so low of me!” he playfully answers, a hand on his heart, feigning disappointment, “Besides, I take my job too seriously to let that sort of thing happen.”
“What sort of thing? Getting engrossed by someone else? Distracted by them? Unable to properly focus on other things like you used to? Sorry to break it to you, but that’s already the case.”
With each new word, his voice gets deeper and lower, just like Sou’s eternal sickeningly sweet smile progressively fades away.
“…Has my work dissatisfied you lately?”
He’s subtly avoiding the heart of the problem but Meister won’t let him circumvent the topic that easily.
“Mmh? Nah, not really. It’s more like … your priorities have shifted. Remind an old man like myself: how often do you hang you with that Tsukimi kid?”
Sou’s brows furrow almost imperceptibly. He’s not getting out of this one scot-free and he’s starting to realize it.
“Ah, I see where you’re going with that. I admit I spend more time on him than on other candidates, that much is true.” He settles more comfortably with his back against the couch, accentuating his movement by a shrug of indifference. “But the cover I have to take with Shin is kind of a long-term one. I already skip “classes” way too much for a normal student. I know Shin is a pretty clueless guy himself – and he believes any lie I feed him, trust me – but he’s not that dumb either. I can talk about some fake half-homeschooling program as much as I want, he’d start getting suspicious if I only spent a few hours each week by his side.”
“So that includes your little fun sleepovers?” Meister shoots as soon as Sou ends his last sentence. Sou is an alright smooth talker but, really, there’s no point in trying with him. You don’t teach an old dog new tricks. “You ain’t a ten years-old kid, are you? And I’m pretty damn sure that friend of yours ain’t either, even if he has the backbone of one. Now, I know enough about you to say you didn’t exactly have the most normal childhood, fine, but please. Don’t try to tell me this is how you collect data on him or how you make buddy-buddy with him.”
“And why does it matter?” Sou retorts harshly. Haha, little Hiyori is getting feisty. Meister was waiting for it. The boy is too smart to ever become openly insolent with him but he knows his way around passive-aggressive discussions. “I already have a tight schedule and I always get the results we need on time. ASU-NARO was clear on that. Get the job done by any means necessary. So really, as long as you get what you want from me, why should you care how I spend my time with our dear targets? After all-”
A deep and cold voice stops him. “Kageya”
The magic word. The boy’s mouth shuts immediately. His real name. Or, more like the first one he ever had. As well as the cursed name of the person he loathes the most in this whole wide world. The false identity of a former yakuza entangled a bit too much to his liking in their own affairs and who fled with some chick he’d got knocked up two decades ago. But there’s no escaping ASU-NARO. So they had found their way back to the bastard. With the little help of his own young progeniture. If he hadn’t beaten the shit out of his woman or his kid, sequestrating them in his own paranoia, well, chances are the story wouldn’t have turned out that way. But Meister did like a good Shakespearean tragedy.
“Kageya,” he repeats, taking pleasure in how the kid’s traits deform themselves in disgust at the simple sound of that name, “I care because this fake relationship you’ve built with that boy is getting personal, isn’t it? He’s eager, honest, emotional, sweet and especially weak. You’re drawn to that weakness, I can tell. You don’t see how you look at him. Like you could eat him raw – tsss, look at yourself, blushing and you’ve never been a prude, if that ain’t a sign!- or seize him and never let go. He’s looking at you funny too. I can’t tell if he’s scared of you or attracted to you like moths are to flames that will burn ‘em and leave ‘em dead. Probably both.”
Sou has become mute, listening to him with icy eyes that know he's powerless in that instant. And there’s nothing assholes like them hate more.
“Heh, I could care less if that boy is a masochist. Figure it out as much as you want to, Casanova, that’s not my business how you release your hormonal or deeply messed up emotional tension. What is MY business is how compromised you or Tsukimi end up if it goes a bit farther than some youths being young and impulsive.”
“Compromised?” the younger one ponders with one arched eyebrow. He’s acting all nonchalant and unbothered but to his bad luck his voice comes out hoarser than he probably intended it to be.
“Yeah, compromised. You’re a good asset, ya know? And for how pathetic and lame Tsukimi is, he’s still a candidate for a reason. I wouldn’t want you to get any idea. You don’t seem eager to share what you consider yours. And that boy?” Meister edges closer, using a momentary silence to get his point across, into that twisted brain of his, “he ain’t yours to have. Like you don’t even fully belong to yourself, remember?”
Sou’s mouth slightly moves. He’s gritting his teeth. He’s letting his guard down. Showing frustration isn’t his style, not with him.
“You both belong to ASU-NARO. You both have a role to serve. He doesn’t know it, that’s why, hey, I can’t blame him if he has a thing for your pretty eyes, but you know better. So have “fun” all you want, play with him in that big silent home we so kindly pay you where no one is around to see or hear anything you two do, but keep that in mind, will you? And when the time comes for the both of you to play along with our lil’ project, you better not try any funny business. You know I got you out of the gutter. Just one word from me and you get back there for the rest of your days, or worse. You got that?”
In front of him, he can feel the kid’s desire to look away, break free, but he’s too proud to show any of it. He simply keeps on staring at him with an ominous aura of discontent around him.
“Loud and clear, Sir,” Sou ends up enunciating with an uncharacteristic calm.
Meister grins. He’s not fooled. He knows there’s no changing the other’s mind. But he doesn’t need him to agree, he needs him to stay in line and know what’s best for him. His job done, he simply gets up and goes to get his coat.
“Good. On these words of wisdom, I’m off! Got some nice scotch waiting for me at home, a real shame you’re not a fan of it. ‘Till next time, kiddo!”
A simple wave, some fake affectionate goodbyes and Meister is gone as quickly as he had barged in. Sou hasn’t moved an inch from the couch. He passes a hand on his face and hair, his elbows on his knees, digging holes into the carpet between his feet. It’s a good thing he’s now alone, because the sight of the ferocious storm in his eyes would have frightened anyone.