Chapter 20

Rei got onto his feet, rage flaring across his face. "You knocked out my dad! Are you insane?!"

Haruto's only response was a light stretch of his neck, followed by a casual wave of his hand. Two of his perfectly silent servants—dressed like servants you would see in a Japanese period drama—stepped forward, seized Kenji under the arms, and began dragging his unconscious body away like he was part of the carpet.

Rei flinched. "Wait, wait—HEY! Where are you taking him?!"

"Don't fuss," Haruto said smoothly, sitting down and promptly reaching for his teapot which had been sitting undetectably on the chabudai. "I'm just sending him home." He said whilst pouring himself a cup.

Rei's glare could've burned holes in velvet. "You could have just escorted him out!"

"He was ruining my mood with his stupid, too-goody, wishy-washy attitude," Haruto said, sipping his tea with deliberate elegance. "Besides, I didn't punch him that hard. He just wasn't prepared." Haruto motioned for Rei to sit. He did sit down, but now with a mellowed attitude. 

"Tea?" Haruto was already holding the pot. Rei held it out and started sipping after it was filled. He liked tea after all.

"So now, great-uncle, what do we do? Buy me furniture for my room? Get me out of these rags?" Haruto smashed his cup into the chabudai. Rei held his cup in fear hoping that his uncle was not going to knock him unconscious too. Instead Haruto burst out a horrendous uncontrollable tirade of laughter.

"You…hee hee…didn't even wait…ha hi hii…your fath…ha ha…I knocked him…"He couldn't even talk through the laughter.

"Great-Uncle!" cried Rei, offended.

Haruto successfully muted his laughter. "You didn't even wait to ask about the luxuries." Haruto cleaned a tear from his eye. "I like that." He motioned to one of the stiff servants outside the door, waving his hand, and the servant quickly opened the sliding doors –That Rei hadn't noticed– and bowed. 

"Send a letter to my designer, and call Yogo here." The servant quickly took off. "So…," turning back to Rei, "Now , Rei," His name rolled off his uncle's tongue like a caramel toffee." I would like to hear more about how my little Ken-chan's family is. After all, I love my family."

Rei's eyes gleamed. That was easy. 

"That's wonderful, Uncle! There's nothing much to see about our pitiful, cheap family, only—" Rei started to feel woozy and his tongue felt too heavy for its container. 

"Um.. I think I feel strange." Rei was swaying now.

Haruto glanced at him over the rim of his porcelain cup, eyes twinkling. "Yes, Rei. You're supposed to feel like that."He sipped again. "It's the tea."

Rei blinked. 

"…The what now?"

A pause. Then, like the most condescending stage magician imaginable, Haruto leaned forward with a smile of pure, glistening mischief. "Oh, Rei. You didn't think this lovely floral blend was just hibiscus, did you?"

Rei's stomach dropped. "What?!"

Haruto shrugged. "It's poison tea (blend?). You'll live. It's not serious. The same one your father and I used to take weekly when we were your age. Builds resistance, sharpens instincts, toughens the soul."

Rei stared at his uncle in mute horror. "I thought it tasted weird…"

Haruto tilted his head thoughtfully. "Interesting. You're sweating. Nausea coming next, then blurry vision—classic signs of untempered blood."

Rei clutched his gut. "Why are you saying that like you're a wine critic?!"

But Haruto wasn't looking at him anymore.

He was staring, brow furrowed, toward the hall where Kenji had been dragged. His voice lowered into something unreadable.

"…So. He's not been giving you the training, has he?"

Rei looked up through a woozy haze. "What training?"

Haruto's eyes narrowed.

"Tell me… Rei. Does your father regularly give you poison to temper your resistance?" 

"What?" Rei had sat down on the cushion in an attempt to manage his dizziness.

Haruto sighed, resting his head on his now interlocked hands like a dish on a platter. "Things like pain resistance training, lying drills, fighting, killing practice, Knife and gun training…"

Rei gawked. "Wait—lying drills?!"

Haruto tapped a lacquered nail against his teacup, expression darkening. "So no? "

"I mean, we run obstacle courses every weekend…and I know how to hold a gun, but about shooting… I'm not so sure…"

The cup in Haruto's hand smashed. The servants acted immediately, rushing in like ants to clean up his cup. Blood trickled down his hand but he didn't even do so much a s blink when the bandages were put on by the servants. 

Haruto closed his hands with a painful smile as the servants all shimmed back to their positions. "Don't tell me Kenji has bred you all to be retarted, snivelling, weak–."

He sucked in a much needed breath and leaned in.

"Don't you worry, my delicate little grand-nephew. I won't let you or your siblings grow up to be spineless, soft-bellied house pets like your father" Haruto squeezed Rei's face so hard Rei's cheeks puffed like a squirrel. 

Rei opened his mouth to complain, but that didn't last because he blacked out

"Aw..he fainted already?" Haruto pouted. "I have a lot of work to do."

He sat back and sighed, one leg crossing over the other with elegance.

"I knew Ken-chan had softened. But I thought at least the basics—would be passed down. And yet.." He started biting his fingernails. "What will happen to the family?" Haruto was so troubled he didn't even notice that he was biting into his nails too much and drawing blood.

The chief servant behind the door frowned. She was going to have to waste time replacing the tatami again.

Kenji groaned, the pounding in his skull making it clear he had been out cold for a while. The pavement beneath him was rough, cold, and unmistakably not the luxurious floor of Haruto's estate.

He cracked an eye open. A street lamp flickered weakly above him. Somewhere in the distance, a stray cat yowled. He recognized the neighborhood—he was only a few blocks from home.

What the hell?

He pushed himself up, swaying slightly as nausea clawed at his stomach. His temple throbbed where Haruto had struck him. He wasn't surprised that the devil had actually knocked him out and dumped him here like garbage?

Checking his pockets, he found his phone—but it was dead. His wallet? Still there. At least his uncle hadn't robbed him. Small mercies.

Before he could get up and start his trek home, a familiar black car zoomed around the block and stopped in front of him.