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Only the moon and the sparse handful of dim street lights illuminate the streets tonight. The ambiance reminds him of an old movie tape, with him standing on the porch of a ruined house, absolutely drenched in the rain. It's a perfect scenario for a lover's reunion... Or a horror movie. Rain drips down his face, and his hair is plastered against his skin. A dark coat he stole earlier clings to his body like a cold, wet blanket, a familiar sensation that fills him with disgust. Just standing here feels tiring, and his mind disconnects from his body, staring blankly into the puddles swallowing his shoes. This is the monster's choice of place, a place the doctor knows far too well. The low rumble of thunder interrupts his depressing train of thoughts and snaps him back to his senses. With a low sigh and the stubbornness of a bull, he persists and marches towards the abandoned residence, his gun growing increasingly heavier in his coat.
The door is unlocked and creaks ominously as the doctor lets himself in. An overwhelming stench of aged furniture and clouds of dust assaults his nose, and the familiar sight of the narrow corridor greets him like an old friend. Memories of what exactly transpired here play against closed eyes, and Tenma forces himself to stop with a shaky sigh, rattled by memories that continue to haunt him with each waking moment. An ominous feeling radiates from the end of the dark corridor. With consciously even breathing, Tenma calms himself and blunders through the dark, depending on the meagre light filtering through the windows. Cold rainwater drips down his body, the old battered floorboards creaking with every step.
Tenma finds himself in the sad ghost of a living room. Drip drip. Tap tap. The rain knocks lightly on a nearby window. Glass crunched loudly as the doctor drew near rows of pictures. The frames are askew, and a thick layer of dust sits on it, covering awkwardly ripped pieces of hair, fingers, and barely visible faces of what looks like a family of three.
"Doctor." A soft voice snakes through the silence.
The blond is holding a candlelight, and the fire reveals his pale face and beige suit in the darkness. Tenma stiffens as Johan draws near. His cold eyes flitted toward the ruined frames before him. They're here for… something. Tenma really doesn't know. He's too tired to fight, and the blond doesn't seem interested in killing him, at least for now. Johan's loafers make dull clicks against the dusty floorboard. Even the footsteps seem calculated, like their owner, rhythmic steps echoing around the ghost of a living room. Now that Johan stands at his side, Tenma notices Johan is slightly shorter, with his head only reaching Tenma's chin, which is… interesting, to say the least.
The blond had always appeared larger than life.
The candle burns brightly against the dark room, flickering, painting the blond a gentle orange hue. Tenma eyes his nihilist enemy. It's strange how no light reflects against his eyes, remaining a matte blue void as if his eyes were an abyss that devoured the light, just like the monster who went east. Johan stands elegantly by his side, lips by default set in a small smile, lidded eyes trained on pictures of the family he had murdered in cold blood. The two have always stood miles apart, eyeing the other from a distance, waiting for a momentary chance to start their dance. Just like the red and blue of a magnet, they repelled, two opposite ends that will never meet eye to eye. They disgust each other yet are drawn to each other's presence, fascinated and unable to pull away like a moth hopelessly drawn to a flame.
Johan places the candle on the table, and Tenma mutters a small thanks.
Silence.
Tenma feels compelled to say… something. That is something he does not know to say. How will he open the monster's eyes to his wrongs when he revels in the chaos it brings? What does he say? For now, he makes himself busy and observes the cracks, notes, and untold stories left behind like a very nosy neighbor.
The blond smiles, following his gaze.
"Do you remember the date today, Dr. Tenma?" Tenma checks his mental calendar but his mind blanks. Dates were no longer important to him, ever since he began a life on the run. Each day that passes by blurs into one incomprehensible mess.
"Lovely family, weren't they?" The blond's smile sharpens, "The Fortners." The blond hums, a finger tracing a cracked picture frame, "Do try to remember, Dr. Tenma. It is very important."
"I'll give you a hint: today was the date I came to collect Anna."
Today? Then today is... Nina's birthday. April 7 marks the twin's birthdays and the Fortner's death. In this very same room, three people died. Suddenly, he understood why they were here in the ghost of Nina's home. Tenma feels sick to his stomach- exactly what games is he playing today?
"Ah, the Fortner's. They took good care of my sister, yes, but useless things must be discarded to make way for more useful developments. Don't you agree, doctor?"
"Nina…" He started slowly, "She was happy with them, her family-" He remembers Nina's blank gaze, despair, and the innocent bodies on the floor. Tenma seethes, his teeth clenching in sudden anger, "She was happier back then. You should have let her be, and you have no right to take these innocent people's lives-"
"And you do?"
The blond shifts to face him. He tilts his head to the left, the picture of innocence, although the illusion was ruined by the smirk twisting his lips.
"Tell me, doctor. Between saving a renowned opera singer and a small pitiful child, you chose mine. To you, all lives are equal, so I ask you: What made you decide to save mine? To give me life in exchange for another?" Johan draws closer, and Tenma steps back, "What made you prioritize my life over his ?" Slowly, Johan advances towards him like a predator, that serene smile never leaving his lips. Tenma was backed into the couch, and the blond leaned in, smiling softly, "Was a child's life worth more than the adult's? You chose one life over the other that day. How hypocritical."
"Those same morals landed you here." Johan's eyes search his face, daring him to say a word. Tenma stays silent.
"Dozens of doctor's operated on that man, but they weren't you . You knew it didn't you, doctor? Why you were needed for that operation. You are the reason why I live, and he does not. I'm almost impressed. You've come close to your goal many times, yet you fail to pull the trigger each time."
Johan circles the doctor like a shark, blue eyes pinning him onto the couch. His words mercilessly tear down his mental barriers, digging, clawing deep into his mind. Johan's shadow flickers behind him and Tenma thinks the shadows are also smiling with sharp, sharp teeth.
"Think, Dr. Tenma. That man was incredibly wealthy. He offered to pay millions to the hospital in exchange for your service. With that money, just think… What could've happened if you had just followed your orders?"
Developments. With that money, the hospital would've built more departments, and the doctor he was would've been ecstatic because, to him, it meant more people could be helped. If he hadn't followed what his heart screamed at him to do, he would've been living a normal life yet chained like a bird in a cage, to be paraded, made to sing for the benefit of his higher-ups. He would chirp happily, lost in the illusion of freedom presented to him, blinded, a naive man who looked at his job with rose-colored glasses.
He was a mere pawn in their game, an optimistic fool led by a collar by the director, a gullible man who had raised no questions, obeying his commands like a loyal dog.
"Tell me. Was it worth it? Saving my life." Cold hands cradle Tenma's face, forcing him to tip his head upwards and meet Johan's piercing stare.
Exhaustion seeps into his skin like a heavy vaccine. His anger leaves as fast as it came, and the doctor sinks into the couch, too tired to even put up a brave front. Not that it would fool a master manipulator, but it certainly would've made Tenma feel better.
Yes." He whispers, his throat tight. He is… unsure. Yet a part of him whispered that it was right.
Johan whispers " Liar. "
He gritted his teeth hard , and grounded himself into reality. A burning heat builds up against his eyeballs and the familiar pounding assaults his head. His eyes burn from stifling his tears, yet he can't look away, fearful eyes locked on Johan's piercing stare.
All lives are created equal.
A much darker voice whispers otherwise. A monster like him should've died on that operating table. Guilt claws at his back- No. No. That's wrong . Yes, he brought the monster back to life, but what right does he have to take it away? It goes against his nature as a doctor, but does that unspoken rule still hold true for him now? Now that his hands are stained with the blood of another? His hands are meant to heal yet here is, actively pursuing a ghost of a man. The gun in his hands meant to kill. Things would be different if he just had the courage to shoot. A single bullet may not change his past, but it would prevent innocent people from getting caught in Johan's games.
"Dearest doctor, you've made some very bad decisions." The fingers on his face felt like hot fire, possessive and painful as if he were branding the shape of his hands on Tenma's skin, "Because of you, I am here. Alive ." He feels sickeningly vulnerable, coming undone with a few softly spoken words. The monster grips his hair, no doubt to watch him struggle more clearly. Johan's saccharine smile grows wider at Tenma's humiliation.
Hot tears pricked the corner of his eyes, and his eyes widened in horror. Desperately, he tries to break away from Johan's hands, but a firm grip forces Tenma to stay. Tenma's too tired to fight it, his body and mind betraying him, leaving him at the monster's mercy. It's evident in how his body sags into the monster's hold, defeated. Is this how Schuwald felt when he looked into the monster's eyes? How small he feels with the almost gentle hands cupping his face is humiliating, and Tenma whimpers. He feels stretched beyond his limit, his mind eating itself from stress. He sobs, hot tears sliding down his face. His face burns, and hot tears stain his red face and pool at his neck. Johan's slender fingers brush them away.
Abruptly, Johan lets go of his face, and Tenma gasps, collapsing into the couch like a ragdoll, panting and sweating. His body burns to run away, and to never look back. The edges of his eyes blur as his heart pounds against his chest. A pair of loafers are still planted on the dusty, wooden floor. Nervously, he looks up. The younger man is standing still like a marble statue, blue eyes dreamy and far away, deep in thought.
"I'm glad. Really glad ." he whispered. Johan stood eerily still for a few more seconds before his eyes widened, and meets his eyes with a small smile, approving and disturbingly fond. Suddenly, he raised a hand moist with Tenma's tears. A wicked grin splits Johan's face and he licks a long wet stripe from his wrist to his fingertips, collecting Tenma's tears with a pink tongue.
The room is silent save for their heavy breathing and the loud pounding of his heart. Johan's eyes flutters and he moans softly, holding the doctor's horrified gaze as he makes an obscene show of savoring every drop. Tenma feels like a prisoner in his own body because it feels uncomfortably perverse to even look, much more to hear such horrible, soft sounds. The sinful act unfolding in front of him feels like a voyeur's disturbing wet dream yet he can't seem to pull away his gaze, paralyzed by the monster's perverted display.
The spell breaks when his lips leave his fingers with a small wet pop.
"Itadakimasu, Dr. Tenma." Johan whispers into his ear, thanking him as if Tenma's tears of humiliation were a fulfilling meal. Just like that, he leaves Tenma alone and dazed, his gun left unused once more.