(#BBBXCOVID1920) The Final Sadist

15 || Wasn't Supposed To

There's no surprise when Yaya wakes up late at noon with sore arms and knackered elbows. It's a memory too crisp to forget. She doesn't like thinking with all the company around her, so she's had her maids sent off to do her morning routine by herself.

The actions come back to her brain in an instant. She can even still feel the scalpel in hand, the way she swung it to his face, the blood she stained on her hands and hair. Dry, brown blots remain even after a shower. It'll be a constant remembrance...of what she did.

She can't afford to worry about BoBoiBoy now. His well-being is no longer her concern. Her legs yearn to run away, all her senses wanting to blow to release her from such captivity.

When her touch lingers deep into the trinket, she touches the hidden bead once more, considering whatever she's bound to do next. Ying told her to roll down the bead as a signal of desperation. Shall they hear it, they will come to her aid. It haunts her, tempts her. She's already reaching into the hatch, all she needs is to let go, and begone will her worries be of BoBoiBoy's disturbing behaviors.

And yet, her pessimistic side calls. What happened to Fang? Is he okay? Are they all okay? Could they still be there when I need them?

She can't waste one call for help.

Muted chaos erupts in her head whilst kneeling over the floor. And before she can finally decide, there's a knock on the door. Down on her level.

Fear doesn't dawn on her. In fact, she doesn't find herself scrambling in panic. She just drops the bead casually and walks towards it. Thank goodness, BoBoiBoy isn't who she sees behind the spruce door.

Ocho obediently sits there like they didn't just hurt each other the day before.

Half-exasperation and relief swallow her instead. They're amused at the fact she's exchanging glares with a panther. What do you want? she feels like saying.

Predatory, amber eyes meet hers. Here to deliver a message, he yaps with a tail hanging onto a spiral notepad.

Besides the fact she felt like communicating, the strange pages of paper come to her view. It's like a journal, but smaller. She hesitates taking it, but the fact that Ocho is watching her closely tells her to do as she's told.

All lines are straight and parallel in BoBoiBoy's handwriting. No bleeding pools of ink over the edges, strokes are finely done with a sentence for each page. Reluctantly, she reads them, and Ocho quietly yawns at her side.

"Hello, Yaya.
I had Ocho deliver this message for you to read yourself.
I just want to apologize."

Pathetic straightforwardness.

"To be perfectly honest, I didn’t feel this is the right time to talk, face-to-face.
Thus, I decided to send you these words.
I apologize that I had to force you into falling for my deals.
I know you won’t listen to me now, but hear me out.
Please.
When you read these…
…as soon as you finish…
…burn them all."

What?

"I hope you just give me this one last chance, Yaya.
You’ve been patient to me all this time…
But I never had a chance to listen to you.
I’m embarrassed.
I’m delusional.
I wanted you to stay with me, but I never thought of anything else.
Because of my irrationality, you have very little intention to stay now.
But give me this one day.
Give me until midnight."

Her eyes hover over the last words. And on her periphery, she realizes there's been a matchbox by her lamp. All this time.

She knows how to use them.