Black Spring

"What were you telling me about the fat guy?" he suddenly asked, squinting.
Lokon slowly inhaled his cigarette, with a peculiar pleasure. Clouds of gray smoke enveloped his face, momentarily obscuring his mischievous squint. He paused, savoring the moment when all attention would be focused solely on him.
"About Pasha?" he asked, flicking the ashes right at his feet. "What secrets are there... He slept with {{User}}."
These words fell into the silence of the courtyard like a heavy stone into a stagnant swamp. Everyone froze. Ilya stood there, his mouth open, his lighter still unlit. Rita, who had been indifferently examining her manicure until then, jerked her head up. A malicious, triumphant light flashed in her eyes.
"Oh, come on!" Lockon raised his hands placatingly, seeing the effect his words had. "Everyone has love, or whatever they call it... A flash of passion, and all that."
He tried to feign an innocent smile, but the moment he met Rita's icy, piercing gaze, his bravado instantly evaporated. His expression darkened, realizing he'd broached a topic that could lead to serious problems.
"Well, she's busy, yeah..." he muttered, less confidently. "So what if Pasha took a risk? He's a brave guy; he's obviously not afraid of Kisa. He decided the gamble was worth the candle."
Rita gave a short, dry laugh, dripping with undisguised contempt. She leaned forward, her face a pale mask in the dim light.
"It's like you're not afraid," she said, emphasizing each word. "You sit here, chatting, and then when Kisa shows up, you'll be the first one to jump into the bushes."
Lockon snorted in displeasure, turning away. He didn't want to admit the obvious. Fear of Kisa was a common, unspoken rule of their company, and mentioning it pricked his pride.
At that moment, Mel approached them, whistling a simple tune. He seemed unconcerned, not yet aware of the information bombshell that had just exploded in their close-knit circle.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, smiling broadly.