The Hitman and His Consort

LVI - Stale

First Person P.O.V: VALENTIN HACKSAW

[5 years later]

I grew to hate things with a burning passion. Considerable progress from not having any strong emotions for anything or anyone, I’m also certain I am now able to feel and acknowledge my fondness for people and animals. It’s almost like I faked caring until I did care and I could say that I’m pretty much a changed man.

‘Heh…that’s really funny,’

Lies. Not all of it though, I think I did manage to create some sort of progress. I did have some people I could consider friends, then again I might be too lenient with the term because I’ve lowered my standards for friends, otherwise, I would have none.

I flew here because I was looking for my parents first and foremost; I think I’m getting close to them too but McGyle was right, after a few years, it gets tiring, I’m just working for some extra money for a head start back on the search and I managed to get myself a pretty good deal with my new home.

I also assumed a different identity now, but I realized I’m not that creative and therefore lived my life as Vasiliy Hasovich, obviously made up. Even so, Vasiliy still lived in a better world than Valentin. I didn’t need to do some drastic changes. I’m more than usually kept to myself, therefore I retained the eccentric impression I left on everyone.

There’s a kind old lady next door who gives me food, so I have to make food to give back to her. These days I found myself cooking more for her and returning the favor than to feed myself. It’s too much trouble, but I’ve gotten used to it. She’s not nosey and knows how to mind her business, so we got along pretty well.

I’ve also learned the language. I won’t say I’m good as any local, but I’m pretty impressed I even embarked on that task. I also work at a school. Not anything big though, it’s just elementary students. I work as the utility staff per se, we’re in charge of plenty of things other than maintenance. We also dabble in some of the construction, the school’s small, so they keep employees to a minimum to ensure good pay amongst us.

The teachers were mostly women, so I’ve been busy at night.

Meaning I spent my evening hunting down possible ‘predators’ around. Then I learned that men are indeed scum. I grew to become friends with some of the teachers and welcome me to the faculty room for breaks, and there I can overhear them complain about stalkers and catcallers.

It was every day too. I thought they were lying until I actually saw it.

But only when I saw a man actually attempt taking a child did I understand the term 'sick to my stomach'. I suppose this was the downside of giving f*cks about your surroundings. I couldn’t forget the day that one of the kids was lured away by a man unknown to anyone in the school and I’ve never felt more burning rage when I say that same man tried to entrap that said child in an alley. His motives are on full display. He’s the very first to receive special treatment from me in this place, let’s just say I demonstrated to him what hell would be before he actually went there.

'kept him real warm under my care,’

I grew to hate things with burning passion… because I grew to be fond of things to a certain extent. Coming to realize that without the help of Rod was difficult and time-consuming. I guess I could say I really did make some notable progress.

“Vaska! Доброе утро, we’ll be busy!” Kavon greeted, he's another one of the utility personnel in this place. We were supposed to be assembling a playground. He’s a rather friendly guy with kind features which is kind of rare.

“Доброе утро,” I greeted back. From that point, he just talks for the two of us. He would tell stories about his wife and kids, and I would say something affirmative.

Whenever it’s break time for the kids, Sofya, the kid I saved that one day, always tries to find me. Most of the time, she succeeds and shares her food with me, usually with an Oreo biscuit. It seems to be the case today too. She found me again and rushed to me with a big smile,

“Приветик, Vaska! Food!” she said.

I hummed and nodded as Kavon chuckled. Despite having done this almost every day, this one habit of hers will never get old. Sometimes I even find myself worried when she didn’t appear like I was an overprotective parent who wants to see their child at all times. I got over that phase quickly. I didn’t want to put that much burden on me and on her.

“This yours,” she said as she handed me five of the cookies,

“Спасибо большое, Sofya,” I thanked, and she nodded as we ate together in the corner of our construction site, though it was more like an installment than actual construction,

“Не за что! Ah, Vaska… I… uh, my papa, coming home today,” she informed, for some reason, she’s really intent on learning and speaking to me in English, I do have to say that I’m impressed with her vigor and persistence. I nodded at her with a smile. Her father’s usually away due to his work and is not very involved in raising her, and now look what happened.

I’m not saying I blame him, but just because wicked people are being more scorned in today’s generation doesn’t make them any less wicked, they just got better at blending themselves in the crowd. I’m a f*cking walking testament to that.

“That’s good news,”

“Da,”

“Did you miss him?”

“Da, but no more… he is home now,” she replied with a shrug and I hummed as we continued to eat in silence.

I suppose you stop missing people once you meet them personally again. Would that be the same for me? I have people I miss too; I guess. I was a bit worried for myself because for a while I was thankful to not have people know me and to not know people. I was left alone, I liked it so much until I didn’t. It was sudden too. Not like a burdening and depressing sadness, but this emptiness of not having to hold a conversation with someone.

Growing up with messy, loud, and fussy siblings... will get you used to particular things.

One person I particularly miss would be Arthur. I realized how sh*tty and bold I was to tell her to wait for me. I was thinking along the lines of getting better at this whole personality-thing immediately as I look for my parents, like a very productive multitasking extravaganza, and then go back to woo her and put her under my spell.

I didn’t know that the search was going to take me longer than I anticipated. After holding a conversation with Kavon, the confidence I gathered, in the past two years thinking that I actually improved my aspects of being a partner, was shattered. He seemed happy with his life and family, and I don’t think I have even one similar trait with him.

“Do you have ... uh… miss?” Sofya asked to fill the silence of our shared rations. I've learned to fill in the blanks of her sentences after a while,

“hmm… yes,” I answered,

“Papa also?”

“Yes,”

“And Mama?”

“Also,” I replied, with a shrug and a smile. I felt ridiculous at that, I remembered leaving that day and telling my father I was running away as a joke.

‘Who’s a joke now?’

“Hm, your…er, your любимая?” she asked with curious and determined eyes, and I almost coughed up the cookies that she gave me.

“Where did you learn that?” I asked as I tried to properly swallow my food, she shrugged and gestured at me to speak so I sighed before shoving a whole cookie in my mouth, “I… I also miss her, her name is Arthur,” I replied and she frowned with a confused look,

“she...Boy?”

I shook my head with a chuckle, of course, she would think that. The Delavigne’s family quirkiness confused even a little girl, “She’s a girl, but she’s… мой король,” I replied. I did recall calling her that before. I doubt she remembers that. If she does, she’s probably pissed that a sh*tty guy gave her a nickname like we’re close.

Every now and then I remember her and all of those times, without fail, it was just regret and embarrassment. I hate that I presented myself like that, makes me curious if it’s true that Arthur liked me. I grew to hate many things. I’ll never get tired and I’ll never let myself live that phrase out. Because those moments were something I shouldn’t have attributed to myself. I acted like a f*cking b***h. Embarrassing.

Once the break was over, I and Kavon got back to work. We had lunch, then got back to work since the kids eat lunch in their classrooms or in the tiny cafeteria. Times passes by like this, five days a week. By my day off, I look up my siblings and see how they’re doing, without them knowing, of course. Denis changed. He seemed like one of those aloof and enigmatic rich eligible bachelors with terrible personalities and Diana was already pursuing her master’s degree.

Then it was time to go home. I packed my stuff, booked a cab, said my farewells to Kavon, some of the teachers, and of course, Sofya, who was fetched by both of her parents. They wanted to surprise her, I suppose.

Once I got home, immediately, I knew something was off. Babushka seemed like she was cooking something good. I glanced at my watch and it’s already 6:13PM; I don’t think I have enough food in my fridge to cook and reciprocate with if she gives me one of those dish-filled Tupperwares.

As I walked to my door, I saw her giving some food to someone else in her house, she has a guest, maybe a relative of hers. I fished out my keys and opened the door, and just as I took a final glance at her window, another figure was staring back at me. This one doesn’t look remotely like her, this one had color in their skin and has messy hair and…

“You’ve got to be f*cking kidding me…” This cannot be true, I squinted and leaned my neck further to see if I was hallucinating and all that talking with Sofya clouded my vision and judgment but no, I am certain that I’m looking at Arthur. Her figure and face got clearer and more discernable, and that’s because she’s running directly toward me.

“Oh, shi—“.

“YOU SON OF A B*TCH!” she yelled as she lunged forward, sitting on top of me, thus pinning me to the ground. Her upper body's weight pressed against my torso.

Her hands wrapped around my neck in a loose grip that it didn’t even hurt. I could feel her whole body tremble as she stared at my face. She looked… beautiful. That’s the word. I couldn’t acknowledge it before, but that’s it. She’s beautiful. She didn’t need a dimmed yellow light at a certain angle to be this beautiful as I thought before. She just is beautiful. Although she does look pissed, no, angry.

“I…” I trailed off, not sure what I’m going to reply to her opening statement, but she’s right. I’m an *sshole.

“You’re a d**k,” she spat as her lips quivered, her voice breaking as she spoke and I could feel her heartbeat through her hands. They were still shaking. Her features slowly softened and only then did I feel a wet drop fall onto my cheek.

‘F*ck..’

I moved her hands off my neck and pulled her in for a hug. It felt right. There was no other better course of action to take other than pull her close to me. She sniffled and sobbed silently and I felt so bad and guilty that I was happy seeing me was enough to put her in tears.

“Hm…and you said you’re not wife?” babushka noted as she walked over to us, carrying a backpack,

I sat up, keeping the weeping Arthur in my arms, and slowly stood up, carrying her now as I took the backpack from babushka, “You kept her warm, Спасибо большое, babushka,” I thanked, she nodded at me and waved her hand as she went back to her house.

I opened the door and dropped her backpack on the doormat so it’s not directly on the floor and sat down on my large recliner, all the while she’s clinging onto me like a baby koala. I missed her so much that her mere scent almost made me short circuit, making me bury my face deeper in the crook of her neck.

“You selfish, rude, insensitive f*cking prick…” she listed as her sobs gradually died down,

“I missed you,” I replied, my cheeks starting to hurt and spasm because I have never smiled wide for so long ever in my life,

“I want to kíll you so bad…” she followed with a weak punch to my chest,

“I know, you look great, you grew out your… what’s this, a bird’s nest?” I noted, combing my hand through her hair as she slowly looks up to meet my eyes with a scowl,

“YOU!”

“I’m kidding!” I yelled, a lighthearted and warm feeling taking over me that I started chuckling at the sight of her teary eyes, I slid my thumb under her eye and cupped her cheek, the warmth from her skin sent tingles through my whole body that it made me wonder what the hell is happening.

‘ah… I’m still f*cking crazy for this woman,’

“Valya,” she started, placing her hand over mine, “Come home,” she said in a way that it made me want to say yes in a heartbeat, in a way that it sounded like she was begging, but not really, her tone gentle and kind but her expression was pained,

I want to. I want to go home with her.

“I can’t… not yet,” I replied, brushing away loose and thin strands of hair from her face. “I still have things I need to do,” I answered. I still need to find my parents. I promise my parents we’ll talk about it when I return, and wouldn’t it be better if we talk to the directly involved individuals.

“Then… you’ll come back, eventually?” she asked, and I nodded. She sniffed before lowering her eyes again, “Come back… for me?” she asked again.

‘What the f*ck was that I thought my heart’s going to drop—’

I knew my jaw dropped, but I’m not sure how long I just stared at her like that. I was speechless. Looking at her was mesmerizing, thinking about her was pensive, feeling her touch was tantalizing. How the hell is someone supposed to function under those conditions?

“Valya, close your mouth,” she noted weakly as she lifted my chin up and close my mouth herself. I really can’t perform well under these conditions. I wouldn’t have left her if the aftermath of meeting her after missing her so much for too long was this stupidly smitten behavior.

“I was selfish when I told you to wait for me, I didn’t know I was going to take so long,” I replied, resting my forehead on her shoulder, I could feel her heartbeat from here and my hand was could feel it from her back, a special kind of feeling that made me feel sorry for the 'me' five years ago that didn’t feel the same way.

“I’m sorry,” I finished, shamelessly sniffing her scent by pretending to take a deep sigh. She must’ve had her perfume laced with weéd because this sh*t is intoxicating and addicting.

‘I wished I knew how I felt way before. This felt so f*cking nice it's f*cking unreal.’

“Then… can I stay?” she asked, I almost cracked my neck with how fast I looked up with her face inches from mine,

“Why… do you want to stay?” I asked,

“Because I want to… You know you could just tell me to leave—“

“No, it’s too late, don’t… don’t leave,” I cut off, pulling her tighter against me, “Please,” I followed, it felt wrong to beg her despite all of the things she had to go through because of my sh*t, “Stay with me,” I added again, the words kept coming, all these times I thought that I just lacked confidence but only did I realize my insecurities when I’m finally in front of the real thing. But my emotions surpass all of that. I've gone too far, too deep. There was no coming back from this.

“I hate you so much,” Arthur said as she leaned her body on mine, like she was melting in my arms.

I hummed to agree. I also hate myself for f*cking up this opportunity before, I could’ve had this five years ago. I don’t know what I based my confidence on before, but it’s also a bad memory for me so I won’t keep beating a dead horse.

“Arthur…” I called out as I leaned back and rested my eyes, her hair tingling my neck, even so, coziness took over me that I felt so at peace I started feeling drowsy,

“Yeah..” she replied, her voice reverberating throughout my whole body,

“Please try to like me again… I’ll try harder, so… give me a chance, maybe?” I trailed off,

“Yeah,” she replied.