The Hitman and His Consort

LV - Odessey

First Person P.O.V: ARTHUR DE LAVINGE

[5 Years later]

Today marks exactly five years since valentine left us. Or left, just plain left. It didn’t look like he was considering literally anyone when he made that decision, and it was selfish. This also marks the nth time that I visited Rodrigo’s clinic. I’ve finally gotten used to seeing it in proper setting and arrangements.

The first time I visited, under disguise, of course, I was disoriented. The room felt wide, the coffee table felt empty, the picture frames hung all over the place that brought a cozy feeling to me contrasted too much to the unnerving vibe we filled the room within those mere few weeks, if not days.

“Hi, Rod,” I greeted,

He nodded to me with a smile, gesturing at the couch, “How have you been?” he asked,

“I’ve been great, works been well, as I said last time, working alone is… something I should’ve done a long time ago before I got too dependent on anyone, but I’m doing surprisingly great,” I answered. We’ve already shared too many conversations together and I’m pretty much an open book to him.

He hummed as she shook his head with a chuckle, “Where’s the surprise? You’ve always been good at what you do,” he assured and I relaxed on the couch with a smile. Things have laid down for a while, people still talk about what happened to the lab and why they grew to attain that much influence until they were busted out of it.

Of course, Mariella labs is gone for good. After their exposed diabolism there was no way that thing will grow back. The building was turned into a mall. The place was wide enough to allow a structure like that to be constructed. It felt great to drive along that road and not see the ominous protruding letters of that building.

Of course, we’re still wanted, people. That won’t change, and that’s nothing new to us. I’m also accountable for the tragedy that resulted in the death of a lot of innocent lives on that day because I wasn’t firmer in my disapproval. Then again, would Valya have listened to me back then if I was more forceful?

“Rod, how’s the family been doing?” I asked. There are a few more involved individuals that actually mourned and endured a bitter grieving period, that probably still lasts until now. As a result of him leaving, I got closer to the Hacksaw family, it started with us keeping notice of each other if there’s news about Valya resurfacing or if anyone got even a glimpse of his shadow.

We didn’t. Wherever Valya left, to must somewhere way outside our reach.

“The Hacksaw’s are… at the acceptance phase, hopeful, but they’ve come to acknowledge that Valya won’t be found unless he wanted to be,” Rod answered,

“That *sshole,”

“You’re right,”

“Mrs. Hacksaw still cries about it,”

“I know,”

“Mr. Gabriel regrets not stopping him that day,”

“He does,”

“Denis changed,”

“Indeed,”

“Diana still goes around the city thinking she’ll find him around,”

“She does,”

“And I…” I trailed off, not sure how I could describe my situation and if I know enough words to express them accurately. He looked at me under his brows, expecting my following words, but they’re not coming through. It was like I was reading from a script that I already memorized but not seeing the cue cards still left me frozen.

Like being served your favorite dish on a full stomach. I know what it tastes likes; I know what it feels like, but I couldn’t digest it on top of the other things that I’ve already had because even though I love it, just the sight of it makes me sick.

“I think I miss him, you know… like always,” I said, the usual understatement. And the thing is, it’s not like I’m hiding anything, I would like to talk about this with someone but that sentence already has the problem.

“Arthur I have a very genuine question for you,” Rodrigo said with a heavy tone as he straightened his back and rested both of his arms on the table, I gulped as I clenched my teeth and sucked in a deep breath, combing my hair back and gathering them all on my nape, a habit that sprung out of nowhere.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” I muttered, making him shake his head,

“Calm down, Arthur, I already told you, you’re not here as my patient,” he assured, he’s been focused and sincere on making these moments as a time spent between friends that are catching up and not anything transactional.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it any less pressuring that I’ll end up disappointing you,” I replied with a shrug.

He chuckled before waving me off, “I’m not your father Arthur,”

“It just feels like you are,”

“What?”

“What?” I answered back, hoping he didn’t actually make that statement out. ‘What the hell was I thinking? Do I just blurt out words now?!’ I blinked at him with a smile to try and distract him from that uncomfortable statement and refresh the atmosphere,

“W-What was the question?” I repeated,

“Ah yes, I was wondering if you’d like it if he came back?” he asked, and his lips immediately formed a thin line as he looked at something behind me.

‘NO.’

I almost snapped my neck when I whipped my head to turn behind to see… no one.

“That would be a yes,” Rodrigo remarked with a heavy sigh. My jaw dropped. The nerve! How dare he play with me like that? I nearly jumped out of my seat and my heart was pounding it feels like it’ll drop and injure my other organs. That was instant adrenaline.

“Rod!” I yelled, making him laugh, as I looked at him with disappointment.

That was a really bad joke. I didn’t even know I’d feel that way if he really ever came back, but I guess we discover new things about ourselves every day. If genuine reactions are what Rodrigo’s searching for, he’s got a real talent for bringing those out. What a terrible hobby.

“But at least you convinced me now,” he noted as he pulled out his phone.

“Convinced you on what?” I spat. Without another word my phone beeped, sounding a notification. I ignored it but Rodrigo gestured at it making me fish it out of my pants. There’s one message from Rod himself so I threw a confused look at him but he only nodded reassuringly at me.

Tapping it open, the message entailed addresses from two separate cities. Kemerovo and Novosibirsk, Siberia, Russia. I frowned at the message before looking at Rodrigo’s expressions. Stuck between restrained excitement and caution, I gestured at the phone with furrowed brows and he nodded as he tilted his head.

I didn’t know what to feel. Shouldn't he give this out to Valya’s family instead and not the woman he fought with before he left? Also, why are there two? I have so many questions running through my head I don’t know which one to start with. But as I overthink the sentimental things…

I was already forming the systemic parts of this search. It made me ask the most important question at the moment, “You kept in contact with him?” I asked in a whisper, trying to push down the feeling that I—no, we were betrayed and that the key to finding him was right here all these times.

It also made me realize… how eager I was to see him, that I never knew how much I wanted this.

I don’t know why. Maybe I want to find closure? Maybe I want to see him again and explain to him further why things ended that way, maybe to not have words hanging in my mouth with a bitter taste. Maybe put my heart at ease.

“Oh, no, no… this came by the mail, two separate letters, one was from last week, and another one today, I don’t really know who sent these out, but… I’m only suggesting this,” he said in a deep tone, “I don’t even know if these mean something, all the letters included were addresses and it looked like it was sent by two different people from the writing itself,” he followed.

I know I was being too hopeful and I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t disheartened. But more than this fear and disappointment, I was willing to risk it. Now I know why he told me this and not the others. He wouldn’t want to lead the others by the nose in a search that leads to nowhere.

But… I’ll be okay. I’ll be able to handle going to these addresses and seeing no trace of that man, I’m alright with searching a foreign country and going home with nothing other than shattered hopes. Because I’m done expecting things from him, the first year he was gone I thought for sure that he’ll be back. Then it turned to three and I thought that ‘Maybe that was enough and he’ll drop by any moment now with a bullsh*t story’ but then three turned into five…

And I realized, he just left…

“I’ll do it,”

“I know you would...” Rodrigo said with confidence, like he always does. I stood up and nodded to him as I walked to the doorway but he raised his hand at me, stopping me in my tracks.

“Arthur, this is… this is going to be highly unnecessary and wrong of me to say now, but the day that he left, he left a message for you,” he narrated.

Making my heart stop for the second time today before it started picking up pace. I gulped as I waited for him to say the message. I don’t trust myself enough to speak because I felt like my voice was going to fail me. He averted his eyes before sucking in a deep breath and leaning back in his chair.

“The worst timing would be now but… he said you should wait for him, it’s selfish of him to say that to you so I didn’t say anything because I want to give both of you equal chances, but I think you’d… want to hear it,” he finished.

‘f*ck this,’ I thought as I gave Rodrigo a stiff nod and sped through the road back to the place I currently rent in, my throat tightening up with my chest, my palms and muscles convulsed and spasmed while I’m trying my best to keep my ground after hearing and going through all of that. I didn’t know what I’m feeling. Was it guilt? Was it anger? Was it happiness?

“F*ck… I feel like sh*t,” I whispered to myself as I set up everything I’ll need all while thinking if I would actually be pulling through this, yet my movements never stopped. That while I was thinking what to do when I see and debating whether I actually want to see him, I finished preparing my essentials and was already on to preparing for the more technical part of this impromptu voyage.

Once I more or less prepared everything, I fished out my phone and dialed Madeleine’s number. Instantly, as the line connected, I spoke, “Maddie, I’m heading out,” I informed.

“Hello too, good afternoon, we’re doing well, yes your nephew is also doing well—is it so hard to greet first?! What is this? Where are you going?” he ranted. He’s right, I need to get a grip. I just feel like wherever he is out there, he’ll leave if I was even a mere minute later.

I took in a deep breath, “Right, I’m sorry… I’m glad you’re all good, tell Luca I love him, and August that I’ll make her some Leche flan next time, but I am going to Russia,” I replied, squeezing in as much as I could in one sentence to finish the conversation immediately.

“Woah, woah, excuse me? Russia? Why?” he exclaimed,

“Work,” I replied,

“Oh… okay, okay, keep contact as much as you could, ingat,” he said, and I hummed, ending the call and making the final and crucial preparations for my departure. The disguise is ready, and I rode a taxi to the airport with my faked credentials and chose the fastest way to my target country, which was booked in a few more hours till pretty late in the night. I waited at the airport itself. Every passing hour felt like a week, and I couldn’t be more impatient.

Once the moment arrived, I ran to the plane and waited for the other passengers to fill the carrier. Then I was off. I ate and slept, trying to conserve energy because I have no idea what I’ll do once we land. Apart from withdrawing money, I’m just hoping that my sheer conviction and luck will help me throughout this stupid attempt of finding Frankenstein.

‘Sh*t… I wonder if he remembers that,’

The plane lands at Novosibirsk and I am at the mercy of locals and their sense of empathy to help me get around, asking for directions and hoping that I wasn’t being duped. The buses were stationed uniformly enough and my luck was really working its ass off when I found a driver that speaks English.

We came to an understanding, and he dropped me off at the bus stop that was relatively close to my direct destination. Once there, I was once again relying on the locals who could help me from that point,

“This is close,” an elder, shorter, woman said with a gentle tone, before looking at me, “Why are you looking for this?” she asked and I inhaled a deep breath through my nose that the cold whiff of air just then pierced even through my bones, it was not just cold, it was chilling, or maybe it was my nervousness of answering the question.

“I… need to speak to him,” I answered, and she hummed as she glanced at the address again and at me, looking at the bulging backpack I have on,

“Are you the wife?” she asked, I froze before I shook my head. Did he have a wife? The woman seemed like she knows him and the place exactly.

“I am not on that level, I don’t think so,” I answered with all the bottled emotions I have suddenly being broken down in front of this fuzzy-looking old lady for no reason at all.

She hummed before tilting her head and gesturing for me to follow her, “I’ll bring you there,” she announce and I hurried ran to her and caught up with her steps,

“ah…wouldn’t that be too much trouble?” I asked, and she just waved me off as we stopped by the sidewalk and a taxi appeared. It seems like she booked it too, she got in and gestured for me to get in. Of course, I thought it could be a scam. It could be something dangerous and from the start, I shouldn’t be conversing with random strangers, let alone ride a taxi with them.

But I’ve already come this far.

We passed the urban parts of the city and reached a more homey-looking town, more than large establishments and apartments. This area had modest buildings and houses. We arrived at a neighborhood and the older woman paid for the cab, not saying another word as she walked to her house.

“ah, excuse me—“

“He arrives late, come in and eat,” she said, cutting me off. It didn’t help that I would’ve done everything to find some warmth in this cold tundra, so she didn’t need to tell me twice. I got in and she offered me tea and some pancakes that has stuffing. It’s a foreign taste, that’s for sure, but it’s one that I won’t complain about.

“You’re looking for big man?” she asked as she sat down on a recliner,

“Y-Yes,” I replied, stiffly seated on her couch as the fireplace crackled faintly, producing enough warmth to make me shed one of my many layers.

“One with white hair?” She asked again pointing at the center of her hairline and I covered my mouth to hide the coughing, I choked on my food at the identification, I knew I was being optimistic but to think that I might be a few meters away from him got me so…

Staggered. If my world was this shaken up at the mere thought of him…I couldn’t picture how it’d be when I actually see him.

“Are you ex-lover?”

“N-No,”

“Friend?”

“I guess?”

“Hmm, well… wait here, he works until 6, take rest,” she noted before standing up and leaving me in her cozy living room.

I’m just thankful I found her. She’s like my little domineering guardian angel, in a good way. I’ll follow the advice and keep one eye open if anything suddenly happens. I glanced at the clock on her wall. Just late afternoon, I should really take a break, try to nap a few hours away until he and I meet.

Picturing his face in my head, hoping that seeing his face won’t make me convulse on the spot.