I wave him away, taking off to the men's section. Despite my intentions, I didn't actually find anything ridiculous enough so I go for stylish. But, everything is either too hipster or would simply look weird on Jean. Suddenly I come a cross a shirt I know Jean would adore. Maybe.
I pass a few security guards, questioning if they were cyborgs or not. I try not to make eye contact with them.
Finally, I pick out a pair of black jeans with slits at the knees. I don't know Jean's size, so I guess and hope it'll fit. Next is a plain dark blue belt, and the finishing top - a soft periwinkle sweater with a cat head stitched on the right side this time. I stack everything on my arm and head back to the fitting rooms to meet Jean, excitement coursing through my veins.
Jean returns with his own stack of clothes, immediately noticing the sweater in your arms and rolling his eyes.
"You found that in the men's section?" He questioned, handing you your clothes. The clothes he picked for you consisted of a gray sweatshirt with long sleeves, a black leather belt and light colored jeans, along with a knitted maroon long sweater that reached just above your knees.
I frown. "If you don't want it, I'll gladly buy it myself. Guy clothes are softer anyways," I tease, taking the clothes he picked. Surprisingly enough, the outfit is rather fashionable. After slipping into them, I step out of the changing rooms to see Jean in the stupid cat sweater. We both look into the mirror at the outfits.
I tilt my head as I admire his choices. "How do I look?"
He looks you up and down with a more noticeable grin than usual.
"Looks nice on you, is it comfortable?"
He asks, adjusting himself in the sweater, puffing out his chest in fake confidence when you comment on his.
"Maybe we should buy them, I mean all I have is a bunch of blue sweatshirts anyway." He mutters, shrugging.
I raise my eyebrows. I knew it, he secretly loves the sweater.
"Why not? What else would you spend your money on anyways?" I grin, and we head on our way to the checkout counter, but there's no one there. I decide to ask Jean a question while we wait for someone to check us out. "So why did you decide to do the job that you do?" Fun? Money? Some twisted inner evil? Maybe he's a psychopath. Well, no shit, he murders people. But why?
Jean turns his head to look at you with a curious expression on his face.
"Do you want an answer to justify myself or do you want the truth?"
He mutters as a young employee approaches the two of you. He remains silent while the employee bags your clothes, gives Jean the price, and Jean pays. The two of you start to make your way back into the main mall area, Jean leading you to the cafeteria.
"Thanks for the clothes," I mutter as Jean hands the employee the money. As soon as we leave, I say, "Well if I wanted a lie then why would I ask you in the first place? Tell me the truth." He leads me to the cafeteria which makes me realize how much time has gone by and how hungry I was already.
He shrugs his shoulders, sitting down at a moderately isolated table from other people as he appeared relaxed and nonchalant in his chair, despite being about to answer a question about his illegal job in the middle of a mall.
"Money. Well, that's one of the reasons. I think it's almost comical that people would give money for something they're perfectly capable of doing themselves. Sure, you might say they themselves can't 'pull the trigger', but if you're asking someone else, you still want it to be done. You're still involved." He pauses, leaning back in his chair as he raises an eyebrow.
"We're all human; that's our redemption and our downfall." He watches as a robotic security guard walks by, wholly unaware.
"That's why those things could wipe us out. They were deprived of the only thing that made them human. Now they're just killing machines. Which brings us back to why I do what I do. Call it pest control."
I leaned on my hand, watching Jean as he goes off on a tangent about humans. For the first time I realized how deep his voice is, and how expressive he is in contrast to when I first met him. I smile as his eyes flutter here and there, and his face scrunching up at some random human fact. I thought about how Kai and Yuki talked. Yuki, with his fancy big words, and constant pushing up of his glasses. Kai, who wasn't always looking straight at you but you didn't mind, and his anxious fidgeting.
"Call it pest control," Jean finishes, arms crossed.
"What are the other reasons?" I pry, leaning in.
Jean looks at you with a bit of a side eye, but more of an intrigued one than an irritated one. Holding his position, he squints his eyes at you and furrows his brow almost unnoticeably into a suspicious expression.
"That's all." He mutters, but continues staring directly at you, as if he's watching for something from you.
i know he killed ur family jean im just waiting for u to
admit it
"That's all," he deadpans, looking at me suspiciously.
I know he's lying, but I don't know why or how.
I lean back into my chair, taking my arms off the table. "That can't be all," I say, refusing to break eye contact. "If money and ridding humans were the only reasons to kill, then everyone would be murdering each other all the time. No, there's more."
His eyes almost dig into you, but a sincere smirk creeps up the corners of his mouth as he chuckles quietly.
"Alright," He mutters, leaning forward onto the table with his elbows.
"Have you ever gotten so angry that you started seeing red? You start doing things you'd hate yourself for in the future?"
He doesn't exactly give you a chance to think about your answer as he keeps going. He inhales gently as his eyes trail the nearest person to your table until they walk out of earshot. He then turns his neck to look back at you, his eyes sparkling with a sense of sincerity, but his demeanor still cold and tight, as if he's holding something back.
"I haven't stopped seeing red since a few years ago."
"his eyes sparkling with a sense of sincerity" that sentence could punch me and id thank it
"Have you ever gotten so angry that you started seeing red? You start doing things you'd hate yourself for in the future?" he questions, elbows planted on the table.
I think so. He continues, "I haven't stopped seeing red since a few years ago."
I relax my shoulders, letting my smirk slip away as I conjure up a reply. I run my fingers through my hair, my brow furrowing slightly. "What happened a few years ago?" How old is Jean?
Jean's expression hardens. He almost seemed to be studying you closely in the span of a few seconds as he thought of a response. Something about him seemed familiarly different. The strange thing is that he hadn't moved since you asked the question, but his energy changed drastically. It was almost like that moment with Tyler in the parking garage, but more natural.
"Nothing happened, let's go get lunch."
He stands up, going to a random line to get food. I didn't pry further, wondering how much Anubis knows. Probably a lot, considering they live together. We stood in silence, aside from the noise of the people around us.
Some people just don't open up to strangers, which is understandable I remind myself. If I had something to hide I'd keep it hidden too.
We each order our food and sit back down, but I still say nothing, afraid of provoking him further.
As you sit back down, you start to feel like you're being watched. Looking around didn't help at all either, as no one was looking at you. Was Jean's lifestyle causing paranoia? Jean looks up from his food at you and raises an eyebrow, as if he had the feeling too.
"You only look suspicious if you're trying not to look suspicious." He whispers, eyeing you closely. He returns to his food, but his eyes shifted slightly, implying that he felt it too.
"Sorry I'm not a professional at life like you," I retort, going back to eating, but the feeling still lingers. I rub my neck and take a sip of my drink, keeping my eyes glued to the table.
Goosebumps cover my skin, hoping the paranoia will go away.
"literally that's why im telling u chill"
Although Jean continued to eat, he started to look in a certain direction too, toward a store somewhere behind you. After a few anxiety inducing shifty eyes from Jean, he started to pack up, throwing away his food in the trash that sat next to your table. He grabbed the clothes bags and stood up, gesturing you out of your seat.
"Let's go." He mutters, but before you could get out of your seat, another man sat down at your table.
It was Kaiholo.
