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Chapter 13(1 / 1)

A faint "click," and a single spark of light ignited amidst the heavy darkness of the night.

Yamawashi held a cigarette between his fingertips, a thin veil of smoke slowly drifting from the corners of his lips.

Without my assistance, even with this identity as Scotland, I would find it difficult to make any progress within the Organization. Whether I could even survive the targeting of those who are dissatisfied with me is still in question, let alone carrying out some secret mission.

He gave a rare smile and raised his hand. "Want to have a cigarette in remembrance?"

*Slap*

His hand was slapped away. Aotsuki looked down at the crushed cigarette pack and the scattered cigarettes, then calmly averted his gaze.

The loud crash of the entrance being kicked open and the sound of stumbling footsteps faded away. He didn't look at the figure running downstairs, but instead crushed the half-burnt cigarette.

He leaned against the edge of the railing. There was no moon tonight, the starlight was sparse. In the dark night sky, where dark clouds drifted, a pair of bloodshot eyes appeared, staring fixedly at him, as if using its last ounce of strength to curse him to hell.

The sound of the wind died down as he murmured, "To avenge my fallen friend.."

Author's Note:

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Chapter 12

The chilly wind blew through his thin T-shirt, as if it were blowing through the unhealed wounds beneath the blood-stained bandages and straight into his very bones. Aotsuki shuddered, suddenly wanting to smoke another cigarette, but when he instinctively reached for his pocket, he remembered he had no more cigarettes left on him.

He lowered his eyes and looked at the scattered cigarettes at his feet.

He knew where Scotland's cigarettes were kept, but he would not touch Scotland's things without Scotland's permission.

Before Scotland returns, he hopes everything about Scotland remains as it is, including his image, status, interpersonal relationships within the Organization; therefore, even knowing that the person being targeted by Rum is not the real Scotland, he would still rush over immediately.

That Public Security Police officer, who looked exactly like Scotland, was both cunning and terribly foolish; he had no idea where his confidence came from, actually believing that he would make concessions for Scotland without any bottom line.

He indeed would.

This was his weakness, it also became the biggest flaw exposed by that impostor.

Scotland, who never owed anyone anything, never took his preferential treatment for granted; this balance, built upon long-term imbalance, was the key to maintaining the relationship between them.

A palm wrapped loosely in two layers of bandages rested on the railing. Aotsuki gazed at the solitary streetlight in the distance, thinking that perhaps this was a signal intentionally sent by Scotland.

Misleading the Public Security Police into believing that the feelings between them were incredibly sincere made him realize something was wrong.

He couldn't be sure, because Scotland hadn't sent him any signals for help in a long time.

Aotsuki suddenly looked downstairs. A figure flashed under the streetlights and disappeared in the blink of an eye. He caught the sound of footsteps, when he turned around, the impostor was already standing in the living room, making eye contact with him through the glass balcony door.

He returned earlier than he had imagined.

The man walked over, one could faintly see him take a deep breath halfway through—or perhaps he was just catching his breath from running back—before finally opening the door and stepping inside.

As his hands moved away from the railing, the bandages on his palms soaked through with blood, Aotsuki watched coldly. He watched that guy squat down to pick up the scattered cigarettes and the half-crushed cigarette pack to throw them away. After going back and forth and thoroughly cleaning up the floor, he walked over to the balcony and said, "I'm sorry."

With a sincere expression and a hint of Scotland about him, he looked far too much like him, causing Aotsuki to frown slightly.

The impostor took out a pack of cigarettes that was different from the one that had just been knocked away. Aotsuki stared at the pack of cigarettes being held out before him, his gaze slowly moving upward, landing on that face that was so familiar it seemed strange.

He didn't have a habit of smoking; he only started smoking because most of the members in his squad smoked when he left the Organization to become a mercenary. Someone would always casually offer him a cigarette. He had tried it, but he never developed a habit, only buying a pack occasionally at specific moments. Much like his attitude toward eating, he was not particular about his diet and had no knowledge of the quality of various tobacco brands; he would simply buy whatever brand he saw first, so he had almost never smoked the same brand of cigarette twice.

Addiction, habit, preference.. many things can push a person toward utter ruin. When strong love is expressed, what is often harvested first is sharp pain and an itch; it is only because other things have temporarily numbed the nerves and senses that everything seems so beautiful.

Every brand of cigarette corresponded to a different memory for him. He admitted that after seeing this brand after such a long time, he really felt like having a smoke, but not now, certainly not while spending time with someone so insignificant.

"Why this brand?" he asked.

In fact, Hiromitsu Morofushi couldn't say for sure why he had chosen this brand. Yamawashi's face remained cold and expressionless; for a moment, he couldn't tell what that lack of reaction meant. After a two-second silence, he pulled another pack of cigarettes from his pocket, which was the same brand Yamawashi was smoking tonight.

He said nothing, but the habitually taciturn Yamawashi spoke the answer for him instead: "Scotland told you. When I proposed to him, I was smoking this brand; that was the only time I ever smoked in front of him. He only knows this one brand, he thinks I like it."

Hiromitsu Morofushi nodded truthfully.

The first time he discovered that Yamawashi also smoked was on the day they confirmed their romantic relationship—or perhaps it would be more accurate to say they confirmed their partnership. He was in the habit of paying attention to every detail, naturally, that included the brand of cigarettes Yamawashi smoked.

He remembered that, at that time, he had actually wanted to play the role of a proper lover.

Yamawashi had done him a significant favor. An exchange of interests was far more stable than a mere social favor, he did not want this relationship to become a hidden danger in the future. After making thorough preparations, he moved to the address provided by Yamawashi.

Yamawashi was too mysterious. He didn't know why Yamawashi had chosen him, just as he had never known in the past that Yamawashi smoked, but as their contact increased, secrets would always be unveiled.

From then on, he would conveniently buy an extra pack of the brand of cigarettes Yamawashi smoked to carry with him, he also placed a dedicated pack in the Safe House, but to this day, that pack of cigarettes remained in its original place, untouched.

He gradually realized that Yamawashi didn't care about him; this safe house was just one of many safe houses Yamawashi had. Perhaps Yamawashi had helped others in this same way, he was merely one of them. All the preparations he had made previously had been nothing more than his own solitary chaos.

.. How could it be otherwise?

Logically speaking, it should be this way.

A breeze rose. His light-colored hair was exceptionally clear under the light of the living room and the streetlamp; Yamawashi in his eyes never seemed to have been this clear before, he had indeed misjudged Yamawashi all along.

Behind him was the pitch-black, empty night. For a moment, the balcony railing overlapped with the railing of a certain rooftop. Hiromitsu Morofushi blinked hard, forcing himself not to think about that scene of suicide under the moonlight.

“I'm sorry, I was being impulsive.”

Hiromitsu Morofushi's hand dropped. He knew Yamawashi would not accept anything from him, not even a cigarette; even back when he was the real Scotland, he couldn't manage that, let alone now that his identity as Public Security Police has been exposed.

He was truly startled just now.

When Yamawashi spoke Matsuda Jinpei's name, his body suddenly went cold, he realized more clearly than ever that the person standing before him was one of the code-named members of the Organization.

Even in the underworld, the sporadic discussions regarding Yamawashi could hardly be called positive, the most widely circulated of which was the rumor that he had once killed all of his teammates.

After finishing his undercover mission, he used his first period of leave to travel abroad for an on-site investigation of that incident, attempting to use it as a clue to find more information regarding Yamawashi.

The answer was that there truly had been such a mercenary squad, Yamawashi truly had joined them to carry out many missions, the squad's end truly occurred in that same year Yamawashi returned to the Organization, with all members dying during a single mission.

He used the experience he had accumulated in the Organization back in the day to easily infiltrate those mercenaries and gather information. Eventually, he even tracked down one of the people who had personally witnessed Yamawashi attacking his teammates during that mission. However, what exactly happened back then had been completely buried along with the suicide of the last squad member.

So at that moment, he realized that Yamawashi really might have killed Matsuda Jinpei. Yamawashi was not a person's name, but a codename for a member of the Organization.

"You didn't do anything to Matsuda Jinpei," Hiromitsu Morofushi said.

He realized the moment he rushed out that Yamawashi was lying. Even if we take it to the extreme, Scotland is still in the hands of the Public Security Police; how could Yamawashi do something that completely ignores Scotland's situation?

Once again, he realized that he had taken it for granted that Yamawashi would continue to make concessions. If, at the very moment all lies and deception were laid bare, Yamawashi's first choice was still to save Scotland, even at the cost of his own life, then he had absolutely no reason not to believe that Yamawashi would risk everything for Scotland.

That was why Yamawashi would be even less likely to lay a hand on Matsuda.

He notified the Public Security Police to confirm Matsuda's status, indeed, some trouble had occurred on Matsuda's end. Not long ago, Officer Matsuda, who had narrowly escaped death, was tied up tightly to a chair. When the Public Security Police arrived, Matsuda Jinpei's eyes were burning with rage; his mouth was gagged so he couldn't speak, but his gaze seemed to have said everything.

Hiromitsu Morofushi told Matsuda Jinpei over the phone that he would explain the details later, then turned back to return to the Safe House to find Yamawashi.

"Thank you." After a long silence, Hiromitsu Morofushi finally uttered the words.

He couldn't bring himself to thank a police officer for a killer failing to kill a target; it was simply too absurd.

He said those words from his own personal standpoint.

Whatever the reason for Yamawashi's decision to stop, the situation had not reached an irreversible point, which allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief. He could never accept a situation where someone he had gone to great lengths to save died because they weren't meant to die for him, no matter how objective or rational he tried to be; and just as Yamawashi said, he was merely relying on his control over Scotland.

As long as Yamawashi stops caring about Scotland, all the arrangements and preparations will go down the drain; the one truly restricted between them will be him, not Yamawashi.

Will Yamawashi ignore Scotland? No, but who can say for certain that he won't, or that he never will?

He did not understand Yamawashi; perhaps one day another person would suddenly appear whom Yamawashi would want to help, perhaps this person would be even more important than Scotland was before.

Yamawashi's actions this time served as both a reminder and a warning, overturning Yamawashi's passive situation, while also confirming Yamawashi's concern for and protection of Scotland, at least for now.

Because you seem to have some irrational fantasy about me," Aotsuki said in a calm tone, "This is to prevent a future where I do what I am naturally supposed to do, yet you find it unacceptable and refuse to fulfill your promise.. This time was just a warning.

.. I understand." That Public Security Police officer said, sounding quite bewildered, "About what happened tonight.. I'm sorry.

This was already the second time that sentence had appeared tonight.

Aotsuki thought indifferently, just what on earth was that guy apologizing for.

He arrogantly stood in Scotland's position, thinking he could obtain what he wanted through it, but Scotland's position was not so easy to hold.

Being controlled by the Public Security Police was far better than falling into that person's hands; this impostor would only be easier to deal with than that person. If someone could appear in that person's field of vision in Scotland's stead, he would welcome it, as it would save him the headache of figuring out how to remove Scotland's name from the Mermaid Island list.

But Aotsuki still thought: I must bring Scotland back as quickly as possible.

Whether in the Public Security Police or the Organization, one is always being controlled and observed; nothing good can come from the two. He always believed that someone like Scotland should not be forced to waver between different degrees of terrible options.

The relationship between you and me is one of cooperation.

Aotsuki felt as if he had said everything he had to say for the next few months, yet the other party wasn't even Scotland; however, for Scotland's sake, he didn't mind being even more explicit.

“Scotland will use certain things to make an exchange with me. Since you are imitating him, then bring out the things I want to trade for, show me your sincerity.”

Author's Note:

----------------------

Chapter 13

Hiromitsu Morofushi really knew what Scotland and Yamawashi usually traded, but the problem was that this thing clearly wasn't something that could be used universally.

The safe house Yamawashi provided him was like a hotel he only visited occasionally; in fact, Yamawashi truly treated this place like a hotel.

Whether arriving suddenly one afternoon or evening, leaning back in the sofa to read quietly for a while, going to sleep punctually at ten-thirty, leaving silently the next morning, he had never seen Yamawashi stay for two consecutive nights in this Safe House.

In this situation, it was the first time they had ever had sexual relations, he was even the one who had brought it up.

Yamawashi's mood seemed to be quite bad that day. Although he remained cold and silent, it just felt different from usual. He wasn't sure if it was because the mission hadn't gone smoothly or due to other issues within the Organization, but Yamawashi did indeed have injuries. As his lover, helping to treat the wounds was normal behavior, not to mention that at that time, he hadn't yet completely given up on making himself appear more like a true lover.

He found the first aid kit, mentally calculating how he would extract information in a moment; Yamawashi must know a great deal of intelligence that only high-ranking members could possess, he didn't want to miss this opportunity. He drew the curtains, as he turned around, Yamawashi had his back to him while stripping off his upper garments.

He had speculated whether Yamawashi was mixed-race, because whether it was his hair color, iris color, or skin tone, Yamawashi had limited pigmentation in his body. Because of this, the old, tiny scars on his skin were exceptionally prominent, that new wound appeared even more gruesome and eye-catching.

Before he could even begin to help treat the wound, Yamawashi turned his head and said, "Thank you."

"You're too kind." He snapped out of his daze and began treating the wound skillfully.

Yamawashi was not a frail person. As the most skilled person in close-quarters combat within the Organization, his muscles were lean and firm, possessing an unimaginable explosive power. It wasn't obvious when he was clothed, but once his clothes were removed, every muscle was as perfect as a work of art, the dense scars were like crackle glazes on exquisite porcelain.

Only when his gaze met Yamawashi's did he realize that his hand had been resting on Yamawashi's shoulder for more than three seconds.

Yamawashi asked, "Do you need me to step in?"

".. Do you want to do it?" he heard himself ask.

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