Mortal Chains

“Unnecessary.”

His refusal of her ‘offer’ came not out of squeamishness- he was not easily disturbed-  but rather out of prior experience; he had seen enough of the researcher’s methodologies and findings alike that being privy to yet another experiment, barring some significant breakthrough, was of little consequence.

That, and he was not there to entertain her every vicious propensity.

“They have been dying quickly.” He stated simply, scanning the ravaged remains of the latest experimental subject. Contrary to what she may have liked to believe, the facility was not Doctor Li Yan’s personal playground, to use purely as she desired; if her sadistic tendencies began to inhibit or override her actual obligations, issues would very quickly arise.

Why do you keep staring?!

Her brows narrowed at his first comment. Did he dare to take her as some simpleton peasant?! How insulting! A soft hmph could be heard from the noblewoman as she crossed her arms. His question made little sense to her, rising her annoyance and irritation with the reaper.

“Hmph! I was sent by none here. I came on my own volution. You grant me so little credit.”  She flicked her fan rapidly, covering her face to mask the foul mood she was starting to have. “Who is this girl you speak of?”

Hm—had his statement annoyed her? Wounded her pride, perhaps, or worn away at her temper? Returned some of the vexation that her presence inflicted upon him?

Good.

For several extended seconds, he hovers before her in ambiguous silence, pondering how best to respond with a deliberate slowness. Though it is possible that she is carefully obscuring the truth of the situation, he greatly doubts that such is the case; inflamed responses, as they are, possess a marked tendency to be genuine.

Her query, on the other hand, does not deserve even the slightest consideration; the answer is obvious enough.

In the blink of an eye, the new tie has been neatly tied around his collar, where it hangs with a pride matched only by the bright gleam present within his eye.

Daji closes her eyes, seemingly ignoring his attempts to dissuade her from forcing this issue. “This is important,” she states matter-of-factly, “When you look away from minor transgressions, you are inviting bigger issues to come along in the future.”

Uncrossing her arms, she turns towards him and hones in upon his face with a rather intent look. She reaches out, ghosting the tips of her nails along one of his cheeks in an upward stroke. They find their mark and catch the material of his eye-patch, flipping it up with a single, deft motion. 

Only a moment passes before she returns his eyepatch to its usual position, a tiny smile quirking at the corner of her mouth. “There- one curiosity for another. That should suffice, for now.”

Curiosity, at times, proves itself to be an ambiguous, hypocritical thing.

When one indulges it personally, even at the expense of another, it can easily appear perfectly innocuous, inconsequential; a trivial impulse, and nothing more. When one finds themselves an unwilling target of the same such act, however, the resulting view may be far more severe.

No sooner does realization strike, than does his mouth twist into an ugly snarl, shattering his formerly impassive expression. Before the offending limb can be  withdrawn, his own hand swings upwards and seizes her wrist in a vise-like grip, forcibly keeping her arm in its outstretched position a short distance away from his face.