EVERYTHING was dark when she came to her senses. Attempting to rub the blurred vision from her eyes made it painfully obvious her arms were bound. Every wiggle caused her knees and elbows to scape against wooden walls with a bang as she struggled against the ropes.
Azusa Saito, age seventeen, was currently tied up and shoved into a box like a folded piece of laundry.
“Mnngh!” Confused by her predicament, she tried to shout for help, only to be muffled by the towel shoved in her mouth. In a panic she kicked the wall with all her strength, but it didn’t budge; it only brought more problems.
“Hey! Shut up back there!” a man threatened. A kick rattled the box and her in it.
Azusa gasped. The sharp intake of air brought with it a calculating calm and a rapid comprehension of her situation.
Am I possibly a victim of kidnapping? Are they after money? Or human trafficking? She shuddered in fear at the thought.
Azusa’s flaxen hair was just long enough to reach below her shoulders on her school blazer. Her biggest complex was her shorter than average height. It seemed unlikely she had been kidnapped for her looks. Money seemed far-fetched too—it should have been easy to find out her father was a town doctor who wouldn’t have enough money to pay for a ransom. They actually fell on the poor end of the financial spectrum since her kindhearted father rarely accepted payment for his work.
Azusa took over the family finances since the death of her mother, which always led to fights with her father. The fights were one-sided, with Azusa getting angry and lecturing her father, who evaded her ire every time like a slippery eel.
She wasn’t from a rich family and considered herself average looking. She had no idea why anyone would want to kidnap a normal high school girl who was extremely fond of sweets and all things cute, good at cleaning, penny-pinching, and kendo, but everything about her situation pointed to it being a kidnapping. At least to her.
The constant vibration she felt through the box and low-hum of an engine led her to believe she was in a car. She strained her ears to hear men talking. Likely two to three of them. She couldn’t remember the kidnapping itself. Her memories blacked out some point on her way home from her afterschool club.
Did they knock me out? My clothes aren’t ripped or dirty, so it’s unlikely I struggled. I don’t feel hurt anywhere either. I don’t know how long I was unconscious for, but it’s likely night now. The occasional light seeping through the cracks in this box looks like the artificial light cast by streetlights.
The best thing she could do in her current predicament was to calmly and accurately break down the situation in a way she could use every piece of information to her advantage if the chance to escape came up.
All of a sudden, she heard the screech of metal grating against metal. Her body slammed against the opposite side of the box, followed by an intense jolt that rattled the entire vehicle.
Did the car crash into something? An accident?
One of the car doors opened. Undaunted by the angry bellows of the men who had kidnapped her, Azusa strained her voice to scream through the cloth in her mouth. She kicked and slammed her body against the box. This was her only chance to be saved.
Someone notice me! Please!
“Mngh!” She frantically kicked the box and screamed despite the cloth choking her.
“Oh, looks like this is the package. Kou! I found her!” shouted a man who sounded younger than the gangsters she heard talking in the car. He easily opened the container with his bare hands as if he were tearing apart a prison cell made of paper, not wood. The wood shattered at his touch—a feat that couldn’t be written off as just being physically strong. But Azusa wasn’t in a state to pay that fact much thought. The strength and tension left her at her presumed safety.
“You all right, miss?” asked a young man who peered into the box with catlike eyes and a friendly smile. His luxurious hair was neatly held in place with gel. His gelled hair and suit combined to give the impression he was from some male host club.
“Can you stand? Are you hurt anywhere?” he asked in a gentle tone as he helped her up. He pulled the towel out of her mouth and undid the rope cutting into her arms. Azusa slowly got out of the car with his support.
But there were some things she should have realized sooner: the lack of her captors’ screams and the deep-red dyeing the hands of the young man smiling gently beside her.
Another man stood in the middle of three corpses, their blood pooling at his feet. He was clad in a black coat that reached his ankles. Red, almost ruby-like, eyes peeked through his black hair fluttering in the wind. Azusa stepped forward, drawn in by the unworldly scene before her. Something squished beneath her foot. She looked down, and as soon as she saw a dismembered ear, her vision gave way to darkness.