Third Person
Paris, France: Jardin d'Eden
After their bonding, he didn't feel any sort of alcoholic consequences while driving, not until they got home where he spent his first night is a young man on his bathroom floor, drenched with his vomit.
That's it! It was that wine...
"Klavier," Edward called his attention because he looked more stable than the blonde lady.
Noticing that the delayed effect of the alcohol was getting worse. He would make them coffee to help them get sober, but he needed to know the truth from the two of them. He was about to use the method he always hated, and the fact that his brother was right about using this procedure someday, Edward clenched his teeth and proceeded to ask them.
He looked him in the eyes and leaned closer to smell the sweet stench coming from his lips, "Who is responsible for this?"
It was the same wine his brother made him drink on his 18th birthday. There's no mistaking it. His eidetic memory helped him remember exact dates and descriptions like it was reciting the alphabet.
Opening his eyes, Klavier sighed when he saw a handsome face scrunching in frustration, "Did you know you look like Mr. Easton when you're mad?" he blurted out and immediately bit his lower lip.
Smirking, Edward got back on his seat and relaxed his back on the headrest of the seat, "So it's my brother?" confronted him, "He made you drink again?"
Racquel was awoken by the commotion and joined, "What? That's silly, Sir Easton!" she giggled and made her slowly sobering up friend's facepalm. They were given strict instructions by the inspector, then again, what did he expect from two teens whom he gave a delayed affect wine.
What do they know? Maybe it's a reverse psychological attempt to make them deliver the message to his brother without having himself deal with his mature lectures.
The grey-haired teen tried saving it, but he, himself, was feeling the rush of alcohol, making him light-headed again, "She means, 'Edward'—" an acute hiccup made him pause before continuing, "Please, Mr. Easton! Don't believe her!"
He had enough words from these two to give him the reason to confront his older sibling, "You children could stay here... I'm going to launch a valuable conversation with my brother!" Edward stood up from his seat and took out his phone.
It was ringing but then the hope of the man answering from the other side when his phone was pulled away from his tight grasp. Edward looked back and saw Klavier with shrunken iris, the sclera of his eyes was filled with red veins. The boy doesn't look enraged; he looked exhausted.
Klavier then hid the phone inside his shirt and confessed, "Saccharide killed them..."
Still, his focus was on the bump of his shirt; he asked the male, "What?"
Alcohol is taking over his body and there's no one stopping him from getting out the heavy feeling off his chest as he let himself fall on the soft cushion of the sofa.
"He called us over for some wine because he wanted us to say all we know about him," Klavier confessed, "I heard them talking. And he said that—"
He lowered his head and muttered, sounding a little doubtful on the few lines, "He could be the one who killed those two victims..."
With his hand against his forehead, Edward reasoned, "It can't be Saccharide. He has a witness that time and a 20 minute less crime is not logically possible. Even time can't agree."
Klavier lifted his head and said, "He's fast and strong. Even with that, he has been trained by Dèmise Heinz—"
The boy was alarmed when he witnessed a tinge of light across his adviser's face provided by his spare phone screen. He stood up and stumbled upon Edward's lap; he begged, "Please don't call him!"
Edward tossed his extra phone on the bed before lifting Klavier's chin to face him, "Why are you pushing this, Mr. Baernaise?" he asked the devastated teen as he found deep worry in his eyes.
Blushing immensely, he wrung his chin out of Sir Edward's finger and admitted his feelings, "I love Raine," a little whimper came out of his mouth, "She's the best sister I've ever had. And as much as I want to hide it and play it cool, I love all of you as my family..."
His body gave up and eventually, he was using his teacher's legs for support and stability, "And it's not going to be ruined by some sick bastard." Klavier ended before closing his vision was covered by his heavy eyelids.
'That's right. Hold that thought for long,'
Edward smirked, he doesn't know what the feeling boiling inside him, but it felt good, knowing one of his children hated him as much as he does. Looking at Klavier's snoozing face, he asked the teen, "You want to go to the bed? This carpet isn't comfortable to sleep in."
"Whatever," the boy responded.
Their weight was nothing to him. He got the blonde girl on the bed first, tucking a bolster beside her that will act as a separation barrier for the two. He draped the cotton cover-up to her shoulders before brushing the tangled strands of her hair.
Edward pulled the grey-haired teen while he was kneeling, on his shoulders and heaved him up with all his might. He grunted, but the boy soon gained sturdy footings so, his adviser just led him to the bed where both of them fell when Klavier lost his balance.
Edward was about to get up from being on top of the teen, but Klavier kept him down by pulling his broad shoulders. Before losing consciousness, the teen whispered, "Tomorrow."
"Your brother wants us all to meet him there at the school. He knows what happened at the crime scene. The truth will soon be discovered from the ashes of the fire," His hands went limp on his shoulders as his immediate snoring started. Edward stood from the bed and looked at both of his students with a fatherly stance before making sure they were asleep.
He snatched Klavier's face mask on the table and tucked a little ball of frozen chloroform near the air condition, his informant delivered him those the first time, they threatened him to show a video of his unforgivable crime.
He never knew who his informant was, but judging the voice on the phone, it was a boy. The voice was manly, but at the same time, it was gentle and soft. Maybe he knows him, maybe he doesn't. That's the part he was scared of. What if the real puppeteer behind these crimes is one of his students? He hopes not.
The snoring got louder as the chloroform melted and submerged into the thin air like normal air. With all of the chloroform in the air, Racquel adjusted in her sleep again in a diagonal position where her feet were above Klavier's hips.
"Innocent creature," he chuckled and gulped, "You did a good job participating in this but—"
Adjusting his glasses, his phone vibrated beneath the sheets so he had to climb the bed and read the text on the screen. His heart was beating fast as the text came from the person who made him their puppet.
He's just another being wrapped in strings.
It's not his will.
But somehow, one part of this is because of his dysfunction.
"I have to apologize. I'm the one at fault. I was blinded by desires that day and I just couldn't help myself..." he cried, removing his glasses to embrace a blurry surrounding, "I don't want all of you to see that I'm a monstrous being. I have no choice but to obey them or else they'll come after us."
His stinging eyes were not enough payment for what he had done; he put on his spectacles again and regained a clear picture, "That's why I—" he paused and remembered the flames he created that day.
It's against his will.
He didn't want to do it.
He needed to.
"I burned Raine's carnation garden..." his water-deprived voice cracked as he stared at Klavier's sleeping face, "There is still hope because, after the fire, new ones will grow."
Raine's smile flashed across his mind; it was a set purpose for this, "If I have to sacrifice one of you for them to sprout again, I'll be more than willing," he smiled before laughing at his students' light snores.
There's a chance he won't be seeing one of their faces again.
"I'm sorry. We've been chosen to cast this part of the play."
At least his phantom apologies won't be for something insignificant.
His guilt of doing this was taken out of his chest.
Hearing the bed creak a little because of Racquel's messy shifting habit in her sleep, Edward looked at her and once again, fixed the blanket over her shoulders. After a while, a disgusting smell decided to make the chemical-filled air more pungent. Edward went inside the room's bathroom where a floating body filled with holes was in the bathtub.
"I need to dump this body too. It's starting to smell," Edward pitied the innocent guard, but there is nothing he could do.
He wasn't the one who dictates who dies and lives, but he was well informed of the survival of the fittest.
It's better some stranger than him.
After wrapping the body in his huge music equipment bag and sprinkling baking soda that he bought from the pizza place, he looked for a disguise and happened to come across Klavier's black sweater. Smirking of his daredevil idea, he undressed the boy and just clothed the naked teen with his spare costume.
"Hello, Easton. Are you still there in the school?" his voice was more soothing after calling his brother on the phone.
"How about a glass of wine? I need to talk to you— They're sleeping, right now," he talked in a normal manner while mercilessly dragging the heavy body across the tiled floor of the bathroom, "No, I'm already accustomed to your dysfunctional, but effective ways— I'll be there in a jiffy."
"Phase 2 on the progress," he muttered before closing the door behind him.