Chapter 24 — “Never Been Sweeter”

Chapter 24 — “Never Been Sweeter”

The car’s vibration seeped through Bitter’s hand. Time has made the sensation to be more numbing than what it has been. The long highway back to their office seems like without an end. The endless asphalt has brought the passengers of the car to their sleep, while Bitter keeps his eyes on the streets — staring blankly toward the endless. Bitter taps on his car’s exterior with his right hand, grasping a stick of burning cigarette. He deliberately put the burning end close to his finger — hoping that it will distract his mind from unwanted thoughts.

But whatever he did, whatever he tried to do — reels of his life always comes back to remind him. Montages of his past life came to kick him in the gut;

When he was kicked out from the school and his own house. When he was succumbed into nights full of drinks and hard liquor. When he had to sign the accursed divorce paper. When he had to scrap food from restaurant’s wastages. When he had to endure the cold winter at the side of the road. When he did anything — anything to survive. When he first shot a man in his face, When he—

A groan breaks what seems to be the endless list of his history. Reactively, he glanced at the source. Lemon’s immature face carved like a piece of modern art. His eyes and mouth were half open, with drools streaming out from his mouth.

He checked the backseat. Lime had smeared blood all across the interior with her supreme sleeping posture. Her leg is up in the air, painting the car’s ceiling with dirt. Seeing it, Bitter let out another tired sigh, as he moves his right hand closer to his mouth.

When he tried to huff another smoke — he was sucking in clean, dry air. He didn’t even realise — the cigarette on his hand has long been blown with the wind. In no time, he reaches out to his coat’s pocket, and pop the cigarettes box open. He studies the inside. At least twelve more sticks — enough until he reached his office. He stick one to his mouth, bringing the burning match closer—

The box, with at least half of its content bounced on the asphalt, along with Bitter’s trusty matchbox.

“…What the hell am I even doing?” Bitter let out another sigh, scratching his head. Both of his hands now on the steering wheel — his index fingers ferociously taps on it. He can feel his lips getting drier every second, and his knees tapping uncontrollably. For a second, he regretted the very dumb decision he just made —

“…dad…”

Lemon talked in his sleep again. Like always. Maybe he had a dream on his family that disappeared in a blink of an eye. Maybe. It was nothing unusual, Lemon often sleep talked. But for a reason or another, Bitter’s eyes widen. He couldn’t stopped staring at the young boy. For a second, a revelation came to his head. He glimpsed at whatever he seek at the end of his tunnel. He saw a light — a hope for second chance. His left hand reached to the young boy’s head, closer and closer —

The next thing he saw, was his own hand — tainted by blood. And he saw the specks of blood covering both the young siblings. He pulls back his hand, putting it back where it should have been as a driver. He averted his gaze away from the boy, staring at his own hand. For a moment, he feels a little relief for not staining the boy with more taint — otherwise he would hear endless complains from him again. His gaze now fixated to the endless horizon, with a small different value filling his blank stare. A resolution.

. . .

“You sure rough him up bad when I was still out…” Katsuo’s flinched face is one of the rare occurrences in the SCF Headquarter. Of course, the body horror of what should have been a decently healthy man would make any ordinary man cringes.

Pool of blood covered Bitter’s face, dyeing his eyes red. His body riddled with bullet holes at the edge of his limbs, deliberately shot to miss at point blank. Bruises painted from the top to bottom of his entirety. From what’s left of Bitter’s right eyes — , he can see the blurry, yet smug leader of the SCF coming into his vision.

“…god damn it,” he cursed softly.

“Kuzumi’s interrogation technique. I’ve learned from the best,” Todachi bows to the leader of the SCF, while keeping his gun close to his chest.

“As expected from my closest.” Katsuo applauded. He himself, doesn’t really look that well. There’s an open cut on his head. He’s limping while being supported by his aides as he approaches Bitter. A hit from a Domini sure doesn’t leave you without scratch.

“I told you, I am a cautious man,” Katsuo smirked, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the secret to his prolonged life. A dented chest plate comes crashing down to the floor. Bitter glances to the hole he fell in. He can somewhat what resembles a net, twined for the bastard’s safety.

“Her brute power is incredible… if I wasn’t wearing titanium plate—“ Katsuo halted his approach for a second, diverting his attention elsewhere.

“Send a unit to execute Cham of The Ark. And prepare the convoy to neutralise the OO’s candidate” All the gunmen gives him a salute, as they disperse to execute his command. Katsuo glances to Todachi, who stands next to the kneeling, powerless Bitter.

“Should I leave the honour to you, as your former partner?” Katsuo asked.

Without saying a word, he salutes to his limping boss.

“Good.” Katsuo crouched down, seeing Bitter eye-to-eye, “I’m going to fetch your kids now. Is there anything you want to say, for the last time?”

Bitter’s breath starts to become slower. His touch sensation, numbing. He can feel his consciousness fading away. But despite all the weakness in his body, an image stands strong in his mind. The two, obnoxious brats, with their irritating smile.

“Tell them then —” A smile rises as well — a smile he could never show to Lemon and Lime, “Tell them to piss off without regret…“

“Will do. Anything else?”

He can feel the cold barrel at the back of his head. With the last of his speech, he muttered a single truth,

“Tell them that…my life, has —“