Nezumi ignores the kitten’s comments for a decent while, rolling the window up and gesturing at the driver to move. He’s tempted to show how much he likes to keep his promises, but decides to give the boy one last chance. Only when they’re out of the underworld and in the lit streets of the city does he turn to acknowledge the kitten’s presence. Honestly, he’s a thousand years too old to bother himself, but he thinks it might be amusing to indulge.
“The last daddy I had was murdered, by me. I’ve prepared a lovely bath of molten gold for him—that was some time ago, however, I wasn’t in need of a good company for some time, which is why I’ve bought you—the bad company,” Nezumi smiles, “Very lonely, indeed, but don’t worry, you won’t be trapped with me. I won’t be paying you any attention at all, since that seems to be your wish. I guess I’ll just store you away; somewhere in private,” he shrugs.
Nezumi understands why Sasuke is defensive and angry. He would have been too if someone would treat him the same way. Livid, actually and he cannot possibly imagine what humiliation the neko went through, but he doesn’t feel like forcing Sasuke into realizing that being with Nezumi is much better fate than staying a prisoner—he’ll let the boy figure it out by himself and he’s going to use a very clear and strict example as he takes Sasuke into a comfy looking room with a wide and soft bed, a sofa and a large TV set with all sorts of video games and consoles to pass time, as well as a vast library.
At the top of a skyscraper, there is a loft that takes up two floors and has been Nezumi’s home since the tower was build. A private billionaire sitting on his own joint-stock company—a cover up for his actual business which is a business of his own that nobody gets to stick their nose in. Not even the media who sneak around and try to catch a glimpse of the mysterious man. Nezumi makes sure his CEO is more famous and remains a pleasant voice on the phone instead.
“I’m sorry if this is disappointing. No pretty maids, either. Just me. You’ve been expecting a manor, right? I do own a few, but they have such idle view. All nature and grass and trees. It’s still the same. The city down here, however, that still grows and changes,” Nezumi speaks and looks towards the window that makes up half of one wall, then shrugs, “Oh… Well—but since I’m just a scum and you’re so unwilling to become a company, then I suppose this has all been set up for nothing. I’ll have to buy a new ‘toy’ that may appreciate the offer of partial freedom and lack of physical violence better.”
They are accompanied by Nezumi’s driver. A man with skin ashen like it was made of stone and touch just as cold. He doesn’t speak, only makes sure Sasuke doesn’t try anything funny.
The room Sasuke is put in instead is a small, windowless cube with no furniture. The walls are soundproof and there is a golden statue of a middle-age man with horrified expression standing in the corner. The metal is worn and looks ancient, but the lines of the face are still recognizable. “—I hope you won’t mind some company. He’s very quiet. I promise,” Nezumi smiles gently, then leans closer and whispers, like a secret. “Sometimes, it still feels like he blinks,” and with those words, he locks Sasuke in and leaves.
Just fucking say something.
Sasuke can’t stand when he’s ignored—brushed to the side as if he’s nothing more than an ornament that happens to make noise. It makes him want to try harder to get on the other man’s nerves, to prove Sasuke isn’t someone he can just PRETEND isn’t there. By the time Nezumi opens his mouth (finally) however, Sasuke wishes he’d kept it shut. Recoiling in shock, Sasuke’s ears flatten.
That can’t be why Nezumi bought him, is it? Of course the phrase killing money has been around ages, but taking it literally? Still reeling, Nezumi’s next words hardly register. Sasuke snorts. “Stuff me away with the rest of the collection?” he drawls, disgusted. “Can’t imagine anyone could consider YOU good company either.” There’s something about Nezumi that presses on every one of Sasuke’s buttons, coaxing out all of his ire down to the last recesses. At this rate, Sasuke’s fur is permanently bristled.
It takes a bit of force to get Sasuke to pry away from the corner of the seat he’d settled in. He’s not keen at all to follow Nezumi, && the lumbering man behind them is far from encouragement. It’s a challenge trying to stay a decent DISTANCE from both men, but Sasuke folds his arms && shrinks, his eyes darting from one man to the other. With only one, perhaps Sasuke stood a chance. He’s not about to RISK it with both, not least because now he doesn’t trust Nezumi to be all there.
The sight of the building makes Sasuke pause, his breath taken away. It’s far from the ornate mansion he’d envisioned, but it’s still enough to leave someone awestruck. It’s too much for one person, OVERKILL. “You’re telling me you can live without someone taking care of you?” Sasuke derides, fully intent on digging his hole deeper. “I can see why no one would want to live with you.” He narrows his eyes upon hearing Nezumi state something about a lack of violence—it’s almost enough to make Sasuke LAUGH. Instead, it comes out as a bitter scoff.
“You don’t expect me to believe that,” he snaps, as if Nezumi truly is crazy. He doesn’t miss the sight of the florid room once it’s gone, it’s only a reminder of Nezumi’s status as well as his own. “You’re all the same. You might think you’re clever, but I don’t fall for those pretty lies!” Panic is beginning to bleed into Sasuke’s voice, && the cold room triggers the downfall. The statue with its face frozen in terror makes Sasuke’s heart sink as he remembers the conversation he’d shared with Nezumi back in the car. “The last daddy I had was murdered, by me.”
Anxiety curls in Sasuke’s chest && makes his breathing fast, SHALLOW. He turns to face Nezumi, shrinking away when Nezumi leans closer. “You can’t do this,” Sasuke hisses, his teeth grit to steady his voice. Of course, Nezumi does anyway, closing the door with a finalizing CLICK before Sasuke can reach it. He slams his fists against the door, as if punching right through it were plausible. He’ll shout himself hoarse for all the good it’ll do him, clawing at the door, the handle, before sinking his nails into his own arms as he tries to calm himself down. It’s just a room, just a room. Nothing in can get to him, but Nezumi can FORGET HIM. It makes Sasuke scream louder, if only to hear himself instead of the silence in the room. He checks every corner of the room, like an escape may be hiding, but he maintains a wide berth around the statue.
Sasuke doesn’t want to be ignored.
