It feels as if it’s only been two minutes since I last opened my eyes. I was hoping I could have a pleasant dream if I went to sleep thinking of my mother, but no such luck today either.

I have no memory of her face or body tucked in my mind. Just what inspiration are my dreams supposed to draw from to ease my pain?

I've been asking for a lot of miracles lately.

“Boss,” the sound of a familiar voice makes me roll over on my back and rub my eyes. It burns.

“Whaaaaaat?” My voice sounds hoarse. How long was I out? Maybe thirty minutes? How could it be this bad already?

“Wake up,”

“If you’re not here to give me another hug, then forget it.” I’ve already forgotten that I made a deal with him to either wake me or kill me if I resisted. But death seems more alluring right now than crawling out of bed.

“It’s 1 AM.”

It’s what?

I sit up in a hurry and scramble to find my phone. What does he mean it’s past midnight? The light from my screen temporarily blinds me, but I catch the number 1:12 before I press it face-down against my thigh.

“I thought you said you’d-!” I forgot. My phone’s scheduled to automatically enter ‘do not disturb’ mode and mute all incoming calls past 11 PM. That’s great news for my insomnia, but bad news for Seito. I groan and throw myself back on the bed, phone still in hand. What a mess.

“I don’t wish to disturb you more than I already have, Boss, but you may want to check the front gate…”

“What?” Front gate? I thought he was upset that we couldn’t work on his case tonight, but is he implying he woke me up for a different reason? “Can’t you take care of it, whatever it is?” I’ve already slept this long, so I may as well continue.

“I’m afraid only you can move this object.” What am I, Sisyphus? Seito, I’m not in the mood. This guy is like the hulk if he swallowed popeye the sailor, and he wants me to believe there’s something he can’t do for me? I pull my arms over my face and let out a long, weary sigh.

“What sort of hell does God have in store for me this late at night?”

“I believe you will understand it the moment you step outside.” I wasn’t thinking about getting up at all, but I can’t quite ignore him when I hear a certain tinge in his voice. I sit upright and grimace at the gap of light pouring in from outside.

“...Why do you sound like you’re happy?”

“Oh,” Yeah, there’s no mistaking it. He sounds like he’s holding back a snicker. “-no. This is simply the way I sound.”

You’re so full of shit, you know that, right?

“Not even you are on my side. I can’t believe this…” I rub my eyes and pull myself together. I reach for the light between the wall and the bookshelf so I can pull it aside and end this misery. One look at Seito would tell most people he appears unamused or simply bored at a glance. But I know. I just know.

“Would you like a hug, boss?” This man is a jester wearing a mortician’s mask.

“The moment is over. I don’t hug people who laugh at my misery.”

“Not once did I laugh, boss.”

“But did you smile?”

“.....”

“Asshole.” I don a self-mocking grin and begin hauling my ass to the gate. 

“Boss,” I’m not actually upset with him, but I need him to get some sleep for the both of us if God wants to punish me.

“I don’t want to hear it. I’m stepping outside and when I come back I want you gone.” Seito can be so calm, collected and eloquent when it comes to dealing with clients, but he’s different when we’re alone. I’m not sure if it’s because he gets tired during the day, but he softens up by the end of the night and has a harder time keeping his mask on.

I’d say it’s the same for me, but I no longer remember what face it is I’m trying to hide. Nor do I remember who I’m hiding it from, or what I’m so worried about. Unlike Seito, my true self isn’t very interesting at all.

I’d argue I’m completely empty beneath the mask.

“Now, who the hell…”

I unlock the front door and almost trip on my way down the stairs. Now, I understand why Seito used the words ‘only you’ with me. Had he told me who was waiting outside, I definitely would have rolled over and tried to fall asleep without a shred of remorse. 

The man that’s been sitting on the staircase for what I can only assume to be hours, grabs onto the guard-rails and pulls himself up on his feet. I can’t believe he’s got the nerve to look at me, let alone demand to meet up again after what transpired earlier today.

“What the fuck are you still doing here?” I glare at Zhulong, but he doesn’t look phased. A punch to the face must not have been enough to set him straight. Would Seito forgive me if I cut off a leg? It would be a shame to cut his face.

“It’s past midnight.” Zhulong states it as if I wouldn’t know.

“No shit, it’s past midnight. Did I ask what time it was, Big Ben? I’m asking you why you’re loitering around my establishment so late at night.”

“You told me you didn’t want to see me for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, and?” He looks down at his wristwatch and extends his arm towards me as if he’s asking me to verify something.

“The day is over.” My eyes glance down at his watch, and I immediately feel my head begin to throb painfully.

“.........” I take a deep, long breath and close my eyes as I exhale slowly. I repeat this sequence at least three times, each feeling much longer than the last.

“Are you a fan of meditation?”

“I’m starting to see the benefits.” I press my hands against my face and rub the sleep out of my pores. “You know, there’s a difference between showing conviction… and just being a nuisance."

“If I’ve offended you, I-”

“No. Save it. I don’t want an apology.”

“I was not going to apologize.” The way he utters it so matter-of-factly takes me by surprise. I’m left speechless just long enough for him to interrupt my thoughts and continue his musings. “As I was saying, if I offended you or said something insensitive, please tell me so outright. My intention is not to minimize your judgement in any manner. I was simply trying to approach the issue from a logical standpoint with the information provided.”

If he understands that information is important to make a judgement call, then he has to understand why I need to know more about his family history.

I lean against the guardrail and rest my knuckles against my lower-lip as I scan him up and down. He’s wearing the same suit he wore when we first left the agency this morning. It doesn’t look like it’s got any new creases at all along the folds. He’s been waiting here for hours since I kicked him out.

“Have you had anything to eat?”

“Pardon?” Of course he hasn’t had a lick of food or water. He doesn’t know anyone in the area and he’s probably scared of wandering our streets in the middle of the night. He’s waiting to be guided.

What a little princess.

“Come.” I pat his shoulder, “I know a good place. Let’s talk over some food and drinks.” but I pause on my way down the stairs to sate a bit of my simple curiosity. “Or, have you lost interest? Isn’t that why you waited for me at my doorstep all this time?”

My lips instinctively curve upwards when I catch the faintest hint of cerulean in his eyes.

Good boy.

I turn my head to continue my descent down the stairs.

“Get going, or I’m leaving you behind.”

Not quite an apology, not quite an excuse.

I don’t know what to do with this spoiled pomeranian.