"And that means they're. . .practical?"
"Good. Yes. But,” He raised one finger. “It also means death is only a task to them. A job. Something that needs doing and then it's done."
I considered that. “And. . .what else would they say?”
"That these men compartmentalize well. They don't carry death with them. They sleep fine at night. Good soldiers. Steady. Reliable in a crisis because they don't let the weight of it slow them down."
"Okay." I crossed my arms, truly intrigued. "Tell me more, please."
"Some men are slow with the kill. Intentional. They want the target toseethem. To understand what's happening and why." Hiro's voice stayed even. "These men believe in justice. In lessons. In making sure the death has meaning."
"That sounds like cruelty."
"Sometimes, but sometimes it's the opposite." He made a weighing gesture. "A man who kills a traitor quickly—is that mercy? Or is it letting him off easy?"
I didn't have an answer.
"Some men kill angry. Some kill cold. Some kill sad—and those ones are the most dangerous, by the way.”
I widened my eyes. “Why?”
“A man who grieves while he takes your life is a man who's made peace with what he is." Hiro's eyes drifted. "You can read everything about a person in how they deal death. Their values. Their wounds. Their relationship with power. Whether they see themselves as predator or protector or something in between. Or just. . .something very fucked up."
The words settled into me.
Heavy.
True in a way I didn't want them to be.
I let silence stretch between us.
Never in my life had I thought about death this way. About what it revealed. What it exposed. That death could be a mirror. That the way a man killed could tell me more about his soul than anything he said or did in daylight.
It was haunting.
It should have made me want to leave this kitchen.
This island.
But instead, I leaned in closer, yearning to learn more.
And that made me question what kind of person I was becoming.
"Thank you." My voice came out softer than I expected. "For taking the time to explain this to me. You didn't have to."
"Yes, I did." Hiro shrugged like it was simple. "You're trying to see the Claws. Really see them. The least I can do is give you the right eyes."
I nodded slowly.
"Also. . .you get my respect."
“For what?”
He tilted his head. "You're not running."
"Should I be?"
"Most people would."
