The Thing About Personal Business - Chapter 2 - Suikorin - 斉木楠雄のΨ難 | Saiki Kusuo no Sai-nan (2024)

Chapter Text

Normally, Kuusuke did not bat an eye toward violence, rape, death, robbery, hacking, banditry, theft, betrayal, backstabbing, hard work, or whatever activity that suited people's desire to covet. The animals and insects did so without prejudice, so why should he, a mere human, be so judgemental?

From dust to dust, everyone was made of the same star stuff and the produce the same tellurian detritus, ripe for rearrangement in the mystery that was life. It mattered not whether the person felt violated. In the grand scheme of things, consideration for human emotions was a luxury.

So seeing these teenage boys, most of them his age, being corralled like auction meat before the factory scale slaughter for mass protein consumption didn't bother Kuusuke at all.

They looked to be boys from one of those religiously affiliated orphanages, as rare as such establishments were in this day and age. Deliberately undernourished, these boys were slightly smaller than average, more skin and bones than children from regular homes. Their shoulder blades jutted out like twisted flesh wings, collarbones about her necks like shackles, sternum and ribs stuck out. Their faces, however, still retained that chubbiness of childhood, lips full and eyes wide, innocent and terrified.

Perfect for degrading and traumatizing, to the satisfaction of those of a sad*st nature who coveted the intangibles like a person's purity or pride.

Kuusuke could appreciate that.

But hunting harmless prey animals that would fall over at the slightest provocation gave no satisfaction. Did hunters mount rabbits and worms on the wall for display? or did the hunters mount lions and rhinoceros?

What type of animal would try such a mounting of Saiki Kuusuke?

Ones with a kink for teenage boys, it seems.

The specific details popped in his head at a breathtaking pace of a diving falcon as he took in the details of their rather unusual prison that he and these boys were in.

It was an upscale, ritzy hotel somewhere in the touristy part of London. Only a block away were poorly lit alleyways where the unsightly debris of humanity was quietly towed and sent away, be it trash or used bodies.

Kuusuke and about eleven boys were marched through an odd-looking stage in one of the hotel's restricted conference areas. There was a slow spinning center plate where each of them stood, like dolls at a Red Light district brothel in Amsterdam. All of them were drugged, to keep them docile enough to handle, to walk, and not struggle against the restraints. To preserve the imagery of their untainted, pure nature, their handlers wore gloves and only used enough force to shove them along, but not bruise.

Except for Kuusuke himself, each boy had a costume, anywhere from billowy sackcloth cut in choice places to the full girl's uniform of a famed preparatory school.

They were clearly garbed to cater to the buyer's fantasy.

Kuusuke, since he was still in his skateboard gear that showed more skin than usual, was probably determined that he suited a certain vagary; there was no need to waste effort in procuring an outfit and forcing the handlers to touch, and therefore risk damage to, the goods.

After the parading, they were placed in a spacious luxury suite that was guarded from the outside. The balcony area was locked too, to prevent any escape by suicide. Menacing men with obvious weapons like guns, tasers and informed them that this floor was an exclusive penthouse suite for a certain Royal's buddies and pals, and all escape routes are locked.

Kuusuke was one of the four boys in a room.

How would Kuusuke find Frankie in all of this?

Apparently, Frankie was ignored, since Frankie was deemed too old, too developed, too well-nourished, enough to fight, anyways. He was pressed into another service.

It was up to Kuusuke to figure out what that "other service" is.

And where the heck did that ugly-assed yellow body pillow go? He just spent a fortune on that unsightly thing.

If he could not find it, someone was going to pay with their entrails.

He also wanted his backpack, full of his favorite electronics, back. Nothing that can't be replaced, but going through the motion of replacing them was still time-consuming all the same.

But first, he needed to get out of here.

Easier to think about it by lazing around on the bed.

Hum. This was truly an upscale place. The thread count on stark white sheets was too much. The lights about the room were soft, inviting. The paintings on the walls were real, instead of the typical paper print underneath a pane of glass. The carpets were thick and plush. Marble countertops and mahogany furniture. The bathroom shower and bathtub had way too many knobs and selections. The beds were many and king-sized. The room was even rose scented.

A room like this had to cost at least £1,000 a night. Depending on the season, the room might even be closer to £2,000 a night.

He might even want to take advantage of the hot tub before leaving. He certainly didn't have the money to stay at a place like this.

Not that he would indulge regularly. Sensual comforts, be it delicious foods, extravagant shelter, stylish clothes, or org*smic sex seem oddly abstract to him. Regular satiation of bodily desires over the minimum to live, in his opinion, was a waste of time. The experience though, even if he could ever understand, might be a useful data point.

It was always a good thing to practice the proper manipulation of humans, without using some of his more forceful manners.

"They're going to rape us," one of the boys said with a dead voice, laying about the bed too, the drugs had caused their limbs to turn jelly, and it was hard to stand. This was a pretty one, one that likely had experience violence at the orphanage. He was fair, with shoulder length-dirty blonde hair and shocking blue eyes. His features made him look almost like a traditional fairy tale princess. He was the one who was garbed in a female school uniform. The name was Jeremy.

One boy was weeping openly. He was a dirty blonde too, but a smaller boy, with almost anorexic arms and legs. He wore a weird blue-colored smock-like dress, and horizontal striped red and white socks. His name was Alex. "You don't know that."

"They're going stick their pricks in our asses and our mouths in one of their orgies," said Jeremy. "That's the least of what they'll do."

Bored by the statement of the obvious, Kuusuke asked, "Are you speaking from experience?"

"Are you?" Jeremy shot back. "You seem awfully calm about this."

"I'm always like this," said Kuusuke with a shrug.

"Why aren't you afraid?" asked another boy. This one was dressed as a maid. A casual glance indicated that this one looked like a Robert. Dark blond hair and innocent brown eyes, he was the larger of boys, who actually seem to have been nourished well and spoke softly.

Looked like Kuusuke was stuck with the blonde group. It seemed fitting.

"What's there to be afraid of?" asked Kuusuke.

"The boys who were picked by the nuns generally don't come back," said Jeremy with a dead voice. "They'll use us then throw our bodies in the skip like yesterday's trash."

"That's too bad," said Kuusuke, completely unsympathetic. However, he did get off the bed and walked over to a floor lamp. He began to tinker, removing the lampshade and the bulb.

"If you're thinking of fighting back, don't," said Jeremy. "They'll hold you down and bloody your bottom hole with a gun instead of their prick, before shooting you there. Senna died from that."

"I'd love to see them try," said Kuusuke, looking at the lamp's electrical cord critically.

The lamp cord was very long, for some reason. It must have been a special order. He wondered where the hotel got them. The craftsmanship of the lamp was impressive. Instead of a cheap block of concrete covered with shoddy plastic mimicking heavy hardwood, to weigh the lamp down, this one had a decorative wrought iron on the bottom. It even used a decorative pull switch instead of the annoying twist switch.

He should permanently borrow a couple. His server room could use the ambiance.

"How are you even moving so easily?" asked Robert. "Aren't you tired and numb from what they've injected into us?"

"No," said Kuusuke. His attention was now on the ottoman next to a thick plush armchair. He moved it, realizing that it rolled. "It's a drag, really. It made me sleep for almost an hour in that nasty transport van. Now my brain doesn't want to shut off." He crossed his arms. "It's terribly inconvenient."

The entire exchange was too strange, enough for the drugged orphanage boys to notice. Jeremy was the first to ask, "Exactly which hell hole did they dig you out of?"

Kuusuke smirked. "The wrong one."

By now, Kuusuke had pushed the rolling ottoman chair until it stopped next to the wall at the short walkway between the door and the bedroom. Seeing that the little ottoman was positioned in a manner that prevented viewing from the doorway, he sat down expectantly. He yawned a little as his mind worked out the details of the escape.

It'd be good to get some exercise along the way.

A few moments later, the door opened.

Three men walked in.

Two looked to be obvious bodyguard type, with the earpieces in place, guns strapped to their waist. They wore the standard black suit with a black tie. They lead in a third person.

They shut the door before they could hear the third person speaking.

"Alright, show me the goods," said the third man, breathing heavily and snorting. "I was told that the beautiful, feminine ones are in this room. I might take a couple of them for myself."

"All of you!" barked one of the two in bodyguard in front. He kept on walking toward the boys, a gun already out. "Line...ugh!"

In less than two seconds, Kuusuke ambushed the first man. Kuusuke swung the heavy side of the floor lamp at the first man's temple, cracking the second thinnest part of the skull.

Man number one fell over, head crashing through the drywall before slipping out, thin line of blood dribbling out of his ear, smearing the wall with red, clearly knocked down.

The second man, too startled to say or react, did not realize the electrical cord of the lamp was thrown around his neck like a noose and tightened.

The second man grabbed at his neck as he felt the electrical cord tighten, looped around his neck at least twice, crushing his adam's apple as he felt his vision blur from the lack of oxygen. He made choking sounds, struggling to breathe. He tried to go for his gun, his taser, his baton, anything, only to realize that the kid had already rustled the weapons from him. His arms flailed as his mind panicked.

The third man, who was either a primary handler or the customer, was a rather imposing-looking man who appeared to be in his mid-fifties. Short, enormous girth, well dressed in a vest and a classic pocket watch tied to a gold chain. The third man observed the rapid take-down, initially uncomprehending, then his expression quickly developed into horror. The horror was quickly overcome by anger and he took a step to join the fray only to stop in his tracks.

A gun was pointed at the middle of his forehead.

"You can come closer if you want, Dr. Shaw," said Kuusuke as he tightened on the grip on the electrical cord. "The safety's on. I'm less likely to accidentally shoot you."

The second man's struggle was quickly losing vigor as he began to see black.

The said Dr. Shaw observed uncomprehending. "You know me?"

By now, the second man was no longer moving. Kuusuke was now fully focused on the said Dr. Shaw.

"Of course I do," said Kuusuke. "And you know me too. You've attended one of my lectures" Kuusuke plastered on his usual non-offensive smile.

"YOU!" shouted the third man, once he realized who it was.

"Yes, me," confirmed Kuusuke with a laugh, his arm still straight, ready to pop the man in the head. "I always knew that you had a thing for teenage boys. I never thought you'd actually try to solicit a service, not just, you know, groom your Albanian landscaper."

Dr. Shaw only stared. Before he gathered himself. Two can play this game.

"Well, doctoral candidate Kuusuke, I could say the same of you," said Dr. Shaw, formulating a clever scheme in his mind to completely ruin the rising academic's career. "I never knew you are a small-time convict known to be violent and commit battery and assault and threatened the life of a respected professor."

Without warning, Kuusuke moved and pistol-whipped the man right on the temple.

Immediately, Dr. Shaw saw white, then black. The concussion was severe. He almost did not make the comparison of being hit in the head by a hammer. He lost consciousness.

"It's 'professors,'" corrected Kuusuke. He lowered the gun and click on the safety and slipping the gun in the waistline of his pants. "Stupid monkey."

Jeremy, the boy who was the most awake out of them, watch the action that lasted less than five minutes, fascinated, scared, and somehow hopeful.

"That...that's amazing!" whispered Jeremy.

Kuusuke shook his head. "I am not that amazing." He rustled around the men's pockets again and discovered several black plastic cable ties. "Ah. Poor man's handcuffs!" Turning toward the boys who were all now, huddled on the far bed. "Hey. Help me tie them up."

Driven by fear and self-preservation, the three boys hesitantly walked over.

One of the boys, the soft-spoken Robert, looked at the one man whose head was smacked so hard that blood bled out of the ear, asked, "You didn't kill him, did you?"

"Of course not," said Kuusuke blithely as he zipped tied the professor's arms together. "He's An honest working man doing his job. He just happened to be in my way."

Robert did not seem to believe Kuusuke and checked the man for a pulse.

It was there. Slow and steady.

Oddly relieved, Robert let his other orphanage pals know of this.

From there, Jeremy, Alex, and Robert all worked together and helped Kuuske immobilize the three men.

After the men were tied up, their mouths gagged, Kuusuke spread out the loot that he was able to rustle from them.

"Let me see, we have here several leftover cable ties, a couple of stun guns, two semi-automatic guns, pistols, a revolver, a zippo lighter, a couple of batons, almost £500 in banknotes, several credit cards," Kuusuke continued to recite the litany of materials that he had rustled from the three men. Some useful. Some not."Let's divvy this up."

During the middle of dividing up the loot, they've heard several muffled shots.

Jeremy, Alex, and Robert immediately looked up, startled and immediately fearful.

"Do you think someone killed..." began Alex, already trembling and near tears.

Kuusuke shook his head and shrugged. "No. that was a warning shot," he said. "To get the mood going, it seems." He stood up. "Come on. You guy should get out of here while you still can."

"But, where would we go?" asked Robert in a soft, almost pixie-like voice. "We can't go back to the orphanage. The nuns would just beat us and send us back here again."

Kuusuke blinked and a queer expression overcame his face. He could not believe this. He wanted to help them. Stupid humans and their pitiful, effective whining, just like his father.

Kuusuke grabbed a pen and a paper from the hotel's nightstand and began scribbling down a few numbers. "Here. I'm not sure which number he'll respond to, but ask for Cedric." He thrust the paper into Robert's hand. "Tell him that he has an opportunity to replay one of the favors he owes to the deputy quartermaster. He'll come to pick you up. Unfortunately, it'll be another unmarked van. But it'll be clean."

Jeremy looked over Robert's shoulder, a frown on his face, even as his mind raced to memorize the number. "How do we know we can trust you," asked Jeremy of this odd fourth boy in their group.

"You should never ever trust me," said Kuusuke, "I'm insane."

The boys stared at Kuusuke, not certain if they had heard the words correctly.

"But like you've said," Kuusuke continued gaily, "where else could you go? Take it, or leave it."

The three boys looked at each other and seemed to confer amongst themselves for a few minutes.

"We'll take your offer," said Jeremy. "But, won't people notice us with our clothes? Won't the guards outside in the hall notice us?"

"They won't," said Kuusuke. "At least within a block of this place."

"How?"

Kuusuke gave a wide grin. "Because I don't want them to notice." His mind already slipping back to scheming as to how he was going to find Frankie and his possessions. "Take those banknotes and shopping for a change of clothes before you call Cedric."

The three boys moved to the door. Jeremy, however, could not help but ask, "What will you be doing?"

By now, Kuusuke was looking at the tied-up men with an almost curious expression. "Attending to business."

The Thing About Personal Business - Chapter 2 - Suikorin - 斉木楠雄のΨ難 | Saiki Kusuo no Sai-nan (2024)
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