Death of a Prince | ✓

EPILOGUE: II

EPILOGUE

'II'

IT WAS TOO cold in Switzerland. And it wasn't agreeing with Kei. At all.

"Fuuuuuck," he exhaled as he climbed up the stairs to the mountain range, the snowy caps gorgeous, the air piercing, and the night sky so bright and full of stars it was practically choking— Kei hated it.

Once he stepped up the top balcony, he brushed his snow boots against the welcome mat before getting in. The room is low lit and dark, furnished with expensive furniture and a man who turned as he entered.

The room was too dark for him to see, but Kei knew he was grinning. He's been grinning a lot since he got free.

"Well hello, Kei."

"They've been looking into Alexander."

"And how far did they get?"

"As far as Moretti Senior."

"Then nothing at all." He smiled. "Bourbon?"

"No, thanks." Kei sighed as he dropped on an armchair, exhausted to the bone. Flights left and right, not to mention keeping under the radar around cameras, too afraid of his own shadow... Ugh, he needs a vacation. "They've stopped. The money was checked too, all gone now."

"And darling Aoi?"

"I just dropped her off the house she bought last year in Hokkaido. She's taking a break, but she's not satisfied. She's... very manic about it. The old man's still alive. She doesn't like that."

He paused. "Which old man?"

"Cavendish."

"Ah." He swirled the glass. "He'll be dealt with."

Kei opened his lids, his eyes to the ceiling. He could just feel the cold tone from that flash of teeth. The old man wasn't going to be alive for very long, that was the tone's promise. "And the Morettis?"

"You don't have to deal with it, my friend. Due time is due. They have their own ticking clock." He sighed in contentment, walking ahead, past him, to the view beyond. The northern lights had come. If Kei was here for a different reason, he'd enjoy the fuck out of this view. He wouldn't want to leave— would have a hard time to. But he didn't own this view. And his employer was a man made of ice and stone and something sharper, darker— honed.

But Kei couldn't help it. He was brought in here, to this game, to take care of Aoi.

Back then, the anger was still so fresh, so fluid. Kei barely remembered who she was when she still lived in Tokyo. She was one of the many girls in his class— until she disappeared into the night. And then he gets a job, to protect her, to take care of her, to make sure someone was there. Anything she needed.

And then to await orders.

For the next few years, he had kept himself still and aware. He was getting paid a fuckton for it too.

Kei had watched a semi-familiar face with an unfamiliar mind and expression moved with a one track mind for revenge. She built her entire face on lies, on every movement, and on every smile. He watched a beautiful girl smile at a fairly good-looking guy, move around him like a flower; only he was so mesmerise by her that he never noticed the thorns when it dug deeper into his skin.

And then something else had triggered her. She had become wilder, her thoughts jumped out of her in bursts. More than once, she'd be drinking too much. She'd be screaming in her room.

And then the girl.

Brown skin against a tulle-gown, her makeup smeared, her hair undone, and brown eyes, afraid but... shinning. She was a good prey. She watched everything, undid everything by the detail so she could understand it better. To preserve better.

Kei had never kidnapped someone, but she was the easiest person to kidnap if he could start a comparison lead. She had been afraid of him, was wary of him, but she tore him apart, piece by piece, to figure out the questions in her head about him. Whenever a question was answered— she'd have that look in her eye, a glittering look. A shine of understanding.

He wanted to tell her the truth, he was ordered to, but he somehow also wanted to keep quiet. Keep things inside. Let her figure out every little thing. Let her unravel him, piece by piece.

Maybe she'd get to the very truth of him.

A place that's as mysterious to Kei as others.

Kei inhaled now. His mind's been a wrecked. He needed sleep.

But he also wanted to know, and unfortunately, he was already poking the dragon before he could give a thought that it might a bad idea.

"What are you going to do?" he asked. "To them? The rest of them?"

"The rest of them?" his voice was cool, crisp. A still lake as clear as crystals and colder than glaciers.

"The guys who... figured it out— what happens to them?"

He stopped swirling the glass. "They'll move on. As expected. As they should. Why?"

"Nothing." But he cringed. Kei cringed. He had said it too fast, too obvious, he knew he had eyes everywhere when he was in England, he knew his employer knew everything—

"You're not going after her, Tanaka." The still lake became ice. Nothing, but pure, sharp ice. "She's spoken for. She's living a nice, sweet life. Let's not forget who we are now. I'm a murderer, you're a murderer. She's not."

Kei's voice was rough, but he couldn't stop the anger from rolling in his tone. "I know. I know. It's not like I'm going to do anything." What could he even do? Watch her from afar like some creep? He doesn't even know what it is— he was just. Fascinated. That's it. But voicing that out loud made him seem like a grade-A bastard. And, again, a creep. So he looked at him, really just looked at him to show him everything he needed to see.

And that they were nothing but honesty.

And he could see that— he was good at that. But unlike the girl's dissection of you that was careful, aware of the edges of that truth and never pried too deep-- his felt more like a trespass. He'd look inside and destroy everything he could see, just to see, just to understand. He didn't just tried to figure out what he needed to understand, but everything and anything else. He'd break them to pieces to understand them.

He devoured you.

"Good, Kei Tanaka. Because you're going to become a ghost again. Time to disappear."