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“Ew.” His whole face folds. “Why is there so much blood?”

Yuma hates blood. Genuinely. It’s one of the very few things that reliably makes him flinch, which is funny given the house he was raised in. Akira is the opposite. He steps around his brother, tilts his head, and studies the bodies with fascination.

Then Yuma sees Kenji and goes to him. “Otōsan.”

Kenji doesn’t look up.

And this is one of the reasons I don’t like him. Not necessarily any of the things he did to make me. It’s that he can’t be bothered to give two minutes to the children he actually fathered. Yuma keeps walking up to him anyway, every time, because he craves his attention. Akira does too, but he doesn’t show it much.

Kenji’s eyes flick briefly toward him, but he says nothing. He simply turns and walks away as if the entire exchange never happened.

I genuinely struggle to understand why he had children in the first place. Some people just don’t fucking deserve to be parents.

I let out a quiet sigh and look between the twins. “Come on. Let’s go. Someone will clean this up.” I gesture toward the bloodshed and start walking, taking the twins with me.

Ilya

My Parasite: Stop ignoring me.

My prince: No.

My Parasite: You’re enjoying this.

My prince: Immensely.

My Parasite: You won’t when I stop asking nicely.

My prince: You were never nice.

My Parasite: True. I was patient. There is a difference, and you’re close to losing the better version of me.

My prince: Promise?

My Parasite: You’re being bratty on purpose now.

My prince: And you’re being dramatic on purpose now.

My Parasite: No, little prince. I’m being clear. I don’t like being ignored by you. I don’t like you acting as if what happened between us is something you can file away and pretend out of existence.

My prince: Watch me.

My Parasite: I am. That’s the problem.

My prince: I’ll block you.

My Parasite: Try me, then. Block me. Let’s see how committed you are to pretending I don’t get under your skin.

My prince: You don’t get under my skin. You get on my nerves.

My Parasite: Liar.

My prince: Whore.

My Parasite: Jealous again?

My prince: Delusional again?

My Parasite: Listen carefully, Ilya. Ignore me if you want to be difficult. Insult me if that helps your pride survive. But stop throwing me out like this. My patience is wearing thin.