Kit:It seemed that his pleas had the opposite of his intended effect, because instead of sympathizing with him, it was clear that P’Kla was getting frustrated, if the way his brows met in the middle was any indication.
“Stop talking in riddles,” he snapped. “If you want me to help you, then give it to me straight. Tell me directly what’s wrong and what you’re hiding.”
If only P’Kla knew just how much Kit wanted to tell the whole world about the problems he was currently facing.
“You have to promise me first,” he bargained, insistent. “You cannot tell anyone what you have seen.” He gestured to his neck. “Neither can you broadcast what I tell you to anyone else—anyone at all.”
P’Kla was still obviously annoyed by these cryptic responses, but Kit knew that he had to be careful above all else.
When P’Kla realized that such a thing was non-negotiable to Kit, he sighed, calming down a bit. “You came to me for help,” he reminded the younger man. “And so, I am doing you a favor, and in return, I cannot promise you my silence unless I am aware of the full extent of your situation. And for that, you must transpire everything with me. No hiding.”
Kit didn’t answer yet, weighing his options. As he pondered on it in silence, Kla took the opportunity to assure Kit that his office was bug-free.
“How do you know that?” Kit asked. “Your family has many enemies.”
P’Kla shrugged. “I just am,” he said. “Plus no one can hack into the inner workings of my office, because I made it so that there was no internet in my room, or anything that had a connection—not even a CCTV.”
At that assurance, Kit felt a flood of relief swirl like waves in his chest. “Fine,” he said, determined to gather the courage to share his problems. He took a deep breath before saying, “The one who gave me this…” He gestured to the marks around his neck. “It was my father.”
Kit expected that P’Kla would show even the mildest look of surprise the way he did when Kit took off his scarf to reveal the bruises. But P’Kla didn’t seem shocked at all.
“I suppose P’Kim has already told you the details of what had happened in the past,” he guessed. “You already know that my father is alive.”
P’Kla shrugged. “I am aware of everything that is happening, but I am a lawyer, and so it is my principle not to get involved in any of this… mafia stuff. After all, I vowed to stay out of this mafia business, though I guess you could see this as some degree of involvement. But trust me, I want nothing more than to stay in ignorant bliss.”
It was Kit’s turn to scowl. “How can you have it in yourself not to care when your own family is in trouble? Are you that much of a coward?”
P’Kla laughed humorlessly at Kit’s weak jab. “You can call me whatever the fuck you want, but I’m gonna do you another favor and give you another piece of advice. Just so you know, the best person to help you about this situation of yours is Kim, not me.”
Grasping at straws now, Kit blurted out, “My father knows about P’Kanya being pregnant.” Kit stopped for a moment when he saw the slight widening of P’Kla’s eyes, and then he continued, “And he was the one who shot at our car that day.”
At this news, P’Kla was instantly alert. But still, he did not say anything.
Seeing this as an opportunity, Kit pressed, “Will you still stand back and remain silent even after knowing that the woman you love might be in danger? Because if yes, then I am disappointed that you have no sense of humanity. And if that’s the case, then you must not be the perfect match for my sister.”
It was only after Kit had spoken that he realize how much he had spoken and how he shouldn’t be the one to talk to an elder the way he had just done. Him and P’Kla had some kind of unresolved tension between them for some reason that never seemed to fade, however, he didn’t have the right to speak to P’Kim’s older brother in that manner. Did he accidentally overstep his boundaries? Was he too forward?
But then, Kla finally spoke, and it was music to Kit’s ears. “Tell me everything,” he said.
Kit let out the breath that he didn’t know he had been holding, feeling like the knot in his chest was starting to unravel. Of course, having this talk with P’Kla was not going to solve his problems overnight, but it would honestly be nice to just let out his concerns and hope for the best. That somehow, P’Kla could tell him what to do next.
And so he started to say everything, pouring his heart out about all that had happened in the washroom. All the fear that he felt, the anxiety of having his father back in their lives once again.
Everything. He did not leave out any detail. It wasn’t difficult to say the specifics—he had been thinking about that encounter over and over before he decided to have this consultation with P’Kla.
When he was finally finished relaying the story, P’Kla pursed his lips, unnerved at the thought. After a couple minutes of thinking and analyzing, Kla told Kit, “You should head back to your room. People might notice that you’ve gone missing, and we do not want that.”
At first, Kit did not respond. He wanted to stay; he wanted to be assured.
P’Kla seemed to have noticed this, because he said, “Do not worry too much; I will take care of this soon. Now go back to your room before someone notices your absence, alright? You trusted in me enough to come to me for help, so I want you to trust that I will do what I can to help you…for Kanya.”
Kit wasn’t going to be convinced easily, but now that P’Kla had mentioned his sister, he was at least reassured that he was speaking the truth. Because if anything, P’Kla didn’t take his sister’s name lightly.