Chapter Text
Jon was already halfway out of the car before Maggie brought it to a screeching halt in front of your house. She wanted to call out after him, to make sure he was okay on his own, but she knew she had reached to end of the road as far as her involvement was concerned. She had a modicum of self-preservation, after all. Hesitating only a moment longer, she slowly drove away, hoping he would reach out to her if he needed help.
There was an unsettling stillness as he approached the door, clashing with the pouring rain and cutting winds. Jon saw the dark blood that encircled the doorknob, like some kind of ward against evil. It wasn’t yours, he refused to believe that. Forgoing his standard knocking habit, he tested the knob, finding it unlocked and opening with ease. Each step inside was slow, testing, sensing for anything out of place. Everything about your home felt wrong, a heavy, dark air filling every crevice. A bloodied knife in the hallway. More blood on the wall next to the stairs, with faint droplets drawing him upstairs.
He searched each room with a cautious eye, feeling the wrongness everywhere he went. You were gone, he knew where to look for you, but there were too many signs here for him to ignore. Had you left them for him? A sign for him to know you were okay, you were fighting? Were you trying to draw his attention to something? Of course, he finally realized, you weren’t anticipating him already knowing, these were signs left for someone unaware you were in danger, signs to show him that there had been a physical fight. You may not be weak, but you would be no match for someone like Hiroshi. The thought sunk in his stomach like a stone.
The sudden ringing of his phone broke the oppressive silence in the house.
“What’d you find, Maggie?” He already knew should wouldn’t let this go, but what could she had possibly come across in such a short period of time?
“Skylar called me, trying to reach you.” She was breathless. “They were just at Valdivian, Skylar said they wrote a note telling her to contact you, they had had been taken and were wearing a wire and—”
“Are they gone already?”
“I-I think so. Skylar was sobbing, I couldn’t get much more out of her.”
“Thanks, Maggie.” He already knew where they were going next.
There was nothing more for him here, aside from exchanging his guns for a small duffle bag armory. Your keys were sitting on top of your work bag, surely you wouldn’t mind him taking it for circumstances like that. Locking up the house and tossing the bag in the passenger seat, he tore out of the driveway, knowing he was potentially starting a race for your very life.
Concealed by the heavy rain, a black sedan pulled out behind him, lights off to stay hidden and traveling slow enough to not raise suspicion. Hiroshi knew he didn’t need to tail Jon, a man of his caliber would already suspect where to go. That’s why he had advised Sota to take you somewhere other than the headquarters, one of the many buildings their family owned. He knew it was a tossup whether the little punk would actually listen to him, but ultimately it didn’t matter. There was a score to settle, an unspoken rivalry between himself and Jon. Sota didn’t need to know he planned on killing Jon regardless of how that impacted his little captive situation, and ambushing him at the abandoned headquarters would make for a fun game.
- - V - -
The nondescript car pulled into the Valdivian parking lot, finding a spot far from the security cameras. Cold hands worked under your shirt, securing a wire to your chest with an unwelcome pieces of tape. The near-invisible microphone barely peaked from your shirt, finding an unused buttonhole to poke out of. The act felt uncomfortably casual, like it was a regular hobby of his to violate boundaries without meeting resistance.
“Remember what I said, if Hiroshi hears anything suspicious, he won’t hesitate to blow the brains of your beau out of his skull.” Steeling yourself against the image, you nodded. Your were willing to play along with whatever Sota asked, as long as it meant Jon stayed safe. Something you noticed about Sota, despite how prepared he seemed to be, was a cockiness that seemed unfitting for someone his age. He had an ego, but you weren’t certain it was deserved. If you were cautious, you wondered if it could be a weakness you could exploit. When an umbrella was thrust into your hand and Sota opened the door to allow your exit, you kept your face as plain as possible.
The walk to the front door was miserable, relentless wind making your umbrella nearly pointless in stopping you from getting drenched in the rain. You were cursing extensively under your breath when the first security guard greeted you, opening the door so you could run under cover to shake off the umbrella.
“Back after hours? I can call for an escort to your office if you’d like.”
“No, that’ll be alright, thank you though!” You folded the umbrella up, quickly walking away before he could ask more questions. Opting to find a more remote path, you took a maintenance elevator up to your floor, guaranteeing no interactions with anyone who wanted to talk, anyone who would pry into your presence. Though you weren’t sprinting, your heart was hammering like you had just ran a marathon, walking as quickly as you could justify if anyone saw you.
Without your badge around your neck to quickly grant you access to your office, you wracked your brain to remember the backup passcode you had set. Wasn’t it...Oh. The first time that Jon spent the night. Shaking hands fumbled entering the passcode into your office’s digital lock, making you hiss out a curse in frustration. Taking a steadying breath, the third attempt was successful. With your hand on the doorknob of your office, you saw a familiar flash of pink out of the corner of your eye. Fuck fuck fuck. Of all the people to run into, it had to be her.
“Hey, friend! You’re here awfully late, working overtime?”
“Yeah, I uh...completely lost track of time when you left me with the Dateviators. Got all the way home before realizing I forgot to submit a report, and the deadline was today.” Stepping into your office, you could only hope Skylar’s visit would be brief.
“Oh, shoot! You couldn’t submit it from home?” She was buying your act, much to your relief.
“Nope, don’t have remote access to this desktop.”
“That’s too bad. Well, I was just heading home for the day, how about I keep you company for a bit?” It took all of your will not to let your face show an ounce of fear. Swallowing hard, you willed your voice to be just as strong.
“I might be awhile, I wouldn’t want to hold you up.” Please, please, you willed her to take the hint.
“Nonsense, I don’t mind!” With as genuine of a smile as you could muster, you invited her inside.
You were getting desperate now, thinking of whatever you could say to get her to leave before she said anything that could put Jon’s life, or her’s, in danger. A thought crossed your mind. If you could get her to call Jon, then at least he would know where to look for you whenever he realized you had been taken. A note! You had to let her know you were wearing a wire, before she said the wrong thing.
Taking a seat at your desk, you fumbled through your drawers for a notepad, one hand smashing randomly on your keyboard for Hiroshi to believe you were actually typing while your other hand hastily jotted down a note. For a brief moment you worried about being seen from your office window, as you apparently had been for who knows how many months, but that would mean driving within range of the security cameras. Sota seemed smarter than that, or at least more cautious from what you had observed so far.
You caught Skylar’s eye, quickly warning her not to speak with a finger pressed against your lips while you silently walked the notepad over to her.
don’t speak
they ambushed me at home
they’re listening, they put a wire under my shirt
call Jon, so he has a trail to follow
but wait until I leave
they’ll kill him if I don’t listen
Her eyes were wide as saucers, but she nodded, understanding the grimness of the situation. Being deceptive wasn’t her forte, but she could find a way to play along.
“Oh, I should go get my umbrella from the lab. It’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?” Her voice was a little shaky, but it sounded convincing enough. You gave a noise of affirmation, watching her walk over to your office door, opening and closing it as though she had left. Hands flying to the drawer that hid the Dateviators, you looked around for anything you could hide them in. The pockets in your slacks were non-existent, and tucking them in your shirt might mess with the wire, raising suspicion. A pile of rubber bands gave you an idea.
Two rubber bands secured the glasses to your ankle, concealed by the leg of your slacks. You’d have to give yourself props for ingenuity later, now you needed to go. Bounding for the door of your office, Skylar stopped you with a frantic waiving of her arms. She was writing something on the notepad, her handwriting growing more illegible the faster she wrote.
Lab has emergency evac that leads straight
outside so you won’t be seen by anyone
they’re stairs but you’ll get out without
anyone hassling you over the glasses
With a nod of you head you followed her hurried footsteps to a door your had never noticed before, leading to a long and narrow hallway, dim lights casting a foreboding glow. Though fast, her footfalls were somehow silent on the white tiles, while yours echoed loudly against the barren walls. You flew pasts dozens of doors, all appearing to only open from the other side. It was beginning to feel like you were running from something, your nerves dancing on a razor’s edge. When you finally reached the evacuation door, Skylar flashed her badge to grant you access, giving you a quick squeeze on the shoulder before opening the door.
It was only 14 floors down, and the red glow of the emergency lights was soothing, not at all unsettling or an omen of the danger you were hurdling towards. You shook your head as you thought to yourself how perfectly, predictably boring your life had been just two years ago. Now here you were, metaphorical gun to your head while you got a crash course introduction into Jon’s world.
Skylar was still reeling, struggling to understand how perfectly calm and rational you appeared to be. She found herself slumped against the wall, hands grasping her phone while she skimmed through over a hundred contacts, already knowing Jon wouldn’t be there. Nobody had really known where he went after Realization – except you, apparently, but you hadn’t left a way to contact him. Finger hovering over Maggie’s contact while her breath hitched in her throat, Skylar could only hope the clever detective could hunt him down in time.
You were already panting when you reached the bottom of the stairs, but a gust of wind that threatened to carry you away once you breached the door outside left you fully breathless. The rain was turning your skin to ice while you fumbled with the umbrella’s release, giving up on it entirely as another vicious gust stole it from your hands, carrying it into the black of night. And to think, only an hour ago you were dreaming of sitting in front of a warm fireplace, the sound of the storm comforting background noise. The anger you felt thawed you slightly, enough for your feet to carry you back to the waiting car.
“I haven’t heard any word from Hiroshi of needing to take corrective measures, you must not have ran into any issues?” You slid roughly into the backseat, your soaked clothing catching and sticking on every surface. Sota settle in behind you, and you didn’t miss the look of disgust at the trail of water you left. Pulling the Dateviators from under your sopping pant leg, you handed them to him with little interest in your reaction.
“Am I going home, now?” He almost laughed, the dark sound reminding you of carrion bird celebrating its next meal.
“No, but you can remove the wire.” With frozen hands, you gripped the bulk of the wire on your back, ripping it off swiftly, dropping it on the seat next to you. Sota disabled the transmitter, a slight frown on his face as felt how damp it was. He didn’t like to get his hands dirty. “I’m taking you back to my family’s home office. Hiroshi thought I should take you to one of our other properties, to keep Jon off our trail a while longer, but those locations aren’t suitable for a guest such as yourself.”
You didn’t like the oddly soft tone his voice took, portraying a sense of familiarity that simply didn’t exist. Just how long was he planning on you being around that the suitability of a location mattered? The function of the Dateviators was easy to understand, especially with the built in tutorial in the form of the Object itself. You needed to know more about his intentions, what he had planned that required getting his hands on the glasses before they were available to the entire world.
“Why are you so desperate to have these glasses before they’re on the market?”
“The plan I have requires a sense of urgency. My family operates a number of clubs back home that cater to the...less conventional desires of men. We already import most of the girls that work there, but that gets messy with humans who have lives and families who won’t give up on looking for them. The way I understand it, there are no such connections for the things these glasses bring to life, and the supply is nearly endless. Imagine the money one would pay to interact with a rare piece of art, to be the one to give it life?”
Despite the constant flow of hot air from the heater in the car, you felt yourself shaking involuntarily. The implications of what he was saying…Sota wanted to enslave Objects in some kind of brothel?! Your heart raced and your skin crawled. He...He was a monster, an absolute psychopath, and you had just brought him the tool he needed to unleash his evil into the world. You didn’t need to see his face to sense how pleased he was with himself.
Of course there had been meetings about the possible negatives of making Dateviators a widely available commodity, but this…It went so far beyond any situation the development team had prepared for. You were wondering now if it had all been a mistake, if these glasses posed more potential for harm than good.
“I-I won’t help you!” There was a slight shake in your voice, either from the rage that filled you, or the fear of what else a man like him was capable of.
“I don’t remember giving you a choice.” There was no threat in his voice, it was simply a statement, as true as if he told you that rain was wet. “Let me clarify something for you. Just like the threat to Jon’s safety has kept you compliant, I’ll be holding on to you as insurance that Jon stays compliant. He’ll be working for my family now.”
You could add delusional to your assessment of his personality. He was underestimating Jon, a fact that would work in your favor. You sat in tense silence for the duration of the ride. All you could do was trust in Jon, trust that he would find a way to get to you. If not that, then you would find a way out yourself, find a way to protect Objects from being hurt the way that Sota implied. There was always a way out, you just had to find it.
- - V - -
Pulling up to the large gates of the Hasegawa Conglomerate headquarters, Jon parked out of sight. He rifled through the duffle bag on the seat next to him, filling each holster with a gun that would have been uncomfortable to wear during the drive over. Six guns, with one singular knife tucked into his waistband, and the rest of the bag slung over his shoulder.
There was a calm focus in his movements, confidence in every step he took through the front gate. Two men stood guard at the front door, their warning call cut short by two bullets that cracked through the raging storm like thunder. He took cover behind a wide stone pillar, dropping the bag from his shoulders and waiting the army to erupt from the front doors.
But no one came. Not so much as a curious head poked through the doors to investigate the noise.
Cautiously, Jon opened a heavy door, taking cover behind it in case he was being lured into a trap. Still, nothing, and not a soul in sight when he finally looked inside. The lights were dim, making it difficult to remember the layout of the floor. There was a stillness in the air, just you he had felt in your home. It felt like he was being watched – but it came from all directions. Without a sound or movement, whoever was watching him was completely concealed.
He did not like this.
Ascending the plush white steps to the second floor, Jon kept his head low. He could sense a change in the energy, a familiar tense buzzing that always preceded a bloodbath. A distant hallway had lights on, casting enough of a glow down the left passage to see the glint of metal held by back-lit shadows of men. He could assume the right side was a similar trap. With a lick of his lips, he aimed his gun to take the first shot.
Hiroshi stalked through the underground parking towards the elevator, a dark anger simmering under the surface of his skin. Not only had Sota disregarded his direction to that his captive anywhere but here, he had called back dozens of men for protection who would now be nothing more than bullet sponges. That’s why Hiroshi had sent them home in the first place, to prevent decimating the ranks any further. A part of him wanted the power-drunk nephew of his boss to experiences consequences for his half-baked idea, but he valued his oath too highly to go against his boss’ wishes. Testing the safety on the gun he had tucked in his waistband, a part of him wished this could just be solved with fists. Shooting someone was so impersonal, cowardly in a way that he had never cared for, but the still-aching wound in his stomach was a reminder that Jon was just as dangerous up close as he was at a distance. He heard the opening gunshot just as the elevator doors opened.
Jon had taken out three bodies before any of them could react. It was chaos at first, yelling and scrambling while they tried to figure out where the shoots came from. A few bullets flew just above Jon’s head, which he reciprocated. Six more bodies fell before he heard footsteps racing for the stairs. Perfect. Aiming his gun at the sound, he tracked it he could see the outline of a body in front of him.
He flicked his gun-mounted light on, blinding them before taking them each out with a bullet through the head. With his location known, Jon tucked himself against the wall, forcing a bottleneck at the stairs that made each fatal shot almost too easy. Even when they came from different angles, he could always see them before they could find him. He had lost count of the bodies at this point, but still they kept coming, dedicated to their cause.
As the elevator doors opened to the second floor, Hiroshi scanned the scene. The smell of blood was already filling the air, a handful of men retreating in his direction. Though he was at the end of the Patriarch’s wing, he could see that everything beyond this hallway was bathed in black. A number of bodies already littered the ground, staining the carpet with pools of deep red. The rapid gunfire that had filled the air stopped, replaced with slow, methodological cracks.
Three men out of 30 were left standing, and one was struggling to stop the blood hemorrhaging from his leg. Hiroshi ushered them into the Patriarch’s meeting hall, shoving the heavy decorative doors closed as he braced his back against them. He had seconds to salvage this, to come up with a plan before all they could do was wait for Jon to find them.
Each crack of Jon’s gun lit up the dark floor, showing the true devastation of his work. Blood, bone, and brains decorated the walls, while the carpet squelched with each step from the blood it had absorbed. When the last man fell, he traded his gun for something more precise, adorned with a suppressor, quickly attaching the mounted light so he could see his work. Rolling over the first body with his foot, he put a second bullet through it’s chest. He wouldn’t be making the same mistake as last time. No one left alive.
“You three, keep your guns pointed at the door at all times.” Hiroshi threw his gun towards them, eyeing Sota with a resentful glare. He barely registered the person Sota’s foot was pinning to the ground. “I told you to take them anywhere but here. Your little fuck up has gotten everyone else killed. This is the last mess I clean up for you.”
Throwing the doors open again, his hand swiped the light switch, plunging the hall into darkness. He didn’t need the lights, didn’t need a weapon. Hiroshi knew these halls like the back of his hand, the darkness would help him stalk his prey. All he had to do was get close enough to Jon, get a hand around his neck, and it would be over.
- - V - -
You weren’t sure how much time had passed when the car came to a stop, but you estimated about half an hour. The car parked in an underground garage, surrounded by similarly blacked out sedans. You were led over to an elevator, Sota’s hand roughly gripping your arm after you had hesitated too long to get out of the car. His mask, if you could even call it that, was already slipping. Your damp clothes stuck to your skin, chilling you every time they shifted. He must have noticed your discomfort.
“I’ll have someone bring a change of clothes up. There are already supplies waiting where you’ll be staying long-term, but we won’t be heading there for a while.” You thought continuing the silent treatment, but this might be a good opportunity to appeal to his ego.
“...That’s thoughtful. Thank you.” His posture shifted slightly, loosening the grip on your arm as the elevator arrived.
“Whatever you think of me, I am a good host.” You faked a smile. The ride was quick, elevator doors spitting you out on a long hallway lined with armed men. Some regarded you with a quick glance, others ignored your completely. Sota guided you to an impressive set of doors, heavy wood carved with a koi swimming upstream. You stopped for a moment, taking in the details, the intricacies of the waves splashing wildly, the scales painstakingly carved one by one.
“You have an appreciation for art. What kind of being resides in those doors, do you think?” Despite your curiosity, you refused to think about it, to think like him. You pulled away from him, walking into the large room to find two long rows of black leather seats punctuated with an impressive desk at the end. Walking to the end of one row, you sat on a chair closest to the desk, folding your hands in your lap. True to his word, Sota made a quick call, barking out an order to bring a change of clothing to whatever room you were in.
Sitting on the desk was a striking silver tea set, ornately embedded with gems in every colour you could imagine. You immediately knew this was the object that brought Jon into this whole mess in the first place. It was quiet beautiful, a piece of art in its own right. You were certain you had never seen something so priceless before, nor would you ever again, considering the value in the gems alone. A firm hand on your shoulder startled you as you turned to see the Dateviators thrust into your face.
“Go on. Get to turning it into a human, or whatever you do.” There it was, that callous disregard for the Objects he wanted to take advantage of. Narrowing your eyes, you put the glasses on your face and focused on the tea set. A pink-haired figure appeared instead, reminiscent of Skylar’s bubbly personality. Their hair was short and curly, and they were dressed in a white button-down shirt tied up to reveal their midriff, with pink and orange Bermuda shorts.
“W-wait, you can’t really be thinking…” They had been present to hear Sota’s plans, which was a bit of a relief. Explaining the danger they were in was a little more than you could handle at the moment.
“I think you know I don’t have a choice.” You tried to soften the frown on your face. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t take the time to get to know you both. What’s your name?”
“It’s Gabriel, but you can call me Gabe! Is there anything I can do for you in my main menu?” The familiar greeting made you smile. You knew you could do it, could stay in control and be the calming presence to make everyone comfortable. If you had done it before you fully understood the power of the glasses, this would be nothing.
“Can you tell me what level my SPECS points are at?” An idea was forming in your head. There had been many Objects that only needed one interaction before they were ready for Realization, you hoped that might be the case again.
“Normally that’s tied to your phone, but…” They squinted at you. “Woah! This isn’t your first rodeo, is it? Let’s do this!” Their sudden confidence in you was a boost you didn’t know you needed.
As they disappeared, you returned your attention to the tea set. This time, nothing stopped you from seeing a tall woman dressed in a silver and black saree, absolutely dripping with gems attached to the bodice and the hem of the shoulder wrap. With each movement, she ruffled and jingled, her hands clasped tightly at her waist. Her skin was a rich brown, with cascading locks of black that waved and curled around her waist. Even more gems adorned her face, resting at her hairline and hanging in long strands that glittered in the light. Dark, soulful eyes regarded you with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
“While these are quite unexpected circumstances to be meeting under, you may call me Chairu. That boorish man has been keeping me here against my will. You don’t look much above a servant, yet you’ve come to the rescue of a lady such as myself?” Her accent carried a posh British sound, which seemed to match her regal air. You smiled to yourself, wondering if all silver Objects chose the appearance of lavish royalty, or if it were simply a coincidence. A few different responses came to mind at her question, but you decided to stick with honesty.
“I’m...actually here to Realize you. That boorish man has me here against my will, too. Normally I have more time to get to know you, but...”
Sota eyed you suspiciously. From his perspective, it looked like you were talking to yourself. Was it bravery or naivety that made you stall so blatantly? Had his threats not been enough? He took a few steps closer to you, reminding you of his presence.
“...You want to make me human? I’ve heard his plans for me if that happens, you...you keep your hands to yourself!” She ran away from you, bolting towards the door before disappearing. You sighed, pushing the glasses up to rest on your head. A part of you was a little glad it had gone this way, it bought you more time to think.
“She’s terrified of you. It’s going to take a few days to earn her trust and get to know her, and then I’ll need—”
“I’m not giving you days, I’m giving you minutes. Now put those glasses back on and quit stalling.” Why had he bothered caring about your expertise if he wasn’t going to listen to it? You know longer cared about appeasing him to make things easier for yourself, you had to stand up for the Objects, to stop anyone else from getting hurt.
“That’s...That’s not how Realization works! There is a science behind it, Realizing an Object too soon can irrevocably change them, if not kill them!” You were pushing your luck too far, and you knew it, but you couldn’t put Gabe through the same thing Skylar had been through, you refused to have a death on your hands. The darkness in Sota eyes returned, the same soulless black you had seen on your staircase.
“Risk killing a being you barely know, or guarantee the death of your lover. You’re options are that simple.” Hot tears burned your eyes as the dam that had been holding your emotions back finally cracked. It was all too much, and you couldn’t think clearly anymore. Deep sobs wracked your body as your walls crumbled. Being strong and fearless had gotten you nowhere different than if you had given into your fear and frustration, and you were tired of wearing the mask.
A distant gunshot was the shock your system needed to focus again. Through your sniffles you could hear dozens of men yelling outside, footsteps thundering towards the sound of the shooter. It was Jon, you knew it in your very soul. Somewhere behind you, Sota scoffed before grabbing your face and forcing the glasses back down on your eyes.
“You’re running out of time, and I’d rather not resort to more convincing methods of getting you to comply. Blood doesn’t dry clean as easily as you would hope.” You shoved him away, eyeing him with a challenging glare through the blurriness of your tears.
“You underestimated Jon, and you’ve mistaken my silence as cowardice. You are the one who’s out of time.” There was a brief moment, a pause that seemed to stretch minutes while you eyed each other. A cruel smirk curled at his lips at the same moment you heard a subtle click and the sound of metal glide against metal.
“This isn’t what I wanted to happen, you were supposed to be my guest.” Sota had pulled a small knife from his pocket, the blade only five inches long, but you had seen first hand the kind of damage that could do. He grabbed your arm, yanking you hard until you collided with his chest. “But if you want to make things difficult…”
The knife nipped at the flesh of your arm, just enough to cut through your shirt and draw a thin line of blood. You tried pulling away again, but his grip was impossibly strong. In the distance, the gunshots carried on, starting to slow to a more predictable rhythm while the yelling and footfalls faded into silence. When you still refused to budge, Sota moved the knife against your chest, cutting a deep slice against your ribs. You had never felt such agony before, and you couldn’t help crying out in pain.
“That was just a taste. Make that tea set human, and I’ll stop.” The pain brought a sudden clarity to your mind. You could hold out, the way the gunshots slowed told you rescue would be here soon. Though your breathing came in jagged gasps, you didn’t hide the smile on your face.
“You didn’t plan for this, did you? Plan for Jon finding you so quickly? The instant he walks in this room, sees what you’ve done to me, you’re dead.” A jilted laugh left your lips, pleased with the thought of Sota meeting his end here. Perhaps you were more pleased with the idea of Jon ripping someone like him apart, right in front of you. The knife dug deeper this time, scratching against bone. The grip he had on your arm suddenly loosened as he let you fall.
Your still-damp shirt struggled to absorb the blood that flowed freely from you, dripping down your side and staining the carpet with silent drops. You tried to apply pressure to stop the bleeding, but a heavy foot on your back pinned you to the ground, immobilizing you. Whatever retort Sota had for you died on his lips as the heavy wooden doors were shoved open, three men backing inside as a familiar fourth barked out orders to them.
“You three, keep your guns pointed at the door at all times. I told you to take them anywhere but here. Your little fuck up has gotten everyone else killed. This is the last mess I clean up for you.”
The sudden intrusion was enough to make Sota step away from you. Your first instinct was to run, make a break for the doors, but what would you do then? Run blindly into more danger in your current condition? Crawling quickly on hands and knees, you created as much distance as you could before using one of the numerous black leather chairs to drag yourself up from the ground.
You had expected Sota to follow you, but he was behind the desk, looking at a display of swords and knives attached to the wall. Grabbing a medium-length dagger, you watched him test the weight, unsheathing it to inspect the blade. He walked towards you without urgency, no emotion present on his face. The glint of the metal caught your eye, making you wonder how much blood it had drawn, how many lives ended, to be on display like it had been.
“What, more threats? More slices into my skin? Keep it up, I’m starting to like it.” For a brief moment, you regretted the way you lost your verbal filter when you had adrenaline coursing through your veins. Talking big had gotten you out of trouble before, but Sota’s determination wasn’t a bluff you could call. How much more torture could you take before you broke?
Sota squeezed a hand around the back of your neck, roughly guiding you back to the desk. He placed the tip of the blade against your back, digging in deep enough to draw blood. You ground your teeth together, biting back the groan of pain threatening to tear free from your lungs. Any wit that remained on your tongue was silenced as your mind went blank.
“Last chance. Keep refusing, and I’ll keep pushing.” You skin seared as he proved his point. “Hopefully there’s enough self-preservation in your stubborn head to make the right decision.”
You didn’t mean to, but your eyes glanced at the tea set while searching for anything to focus on. Chairu appeared in your vision, her rapidly gesturing arms solidifying before you could focus on her voice.
“Please, you must stop this! I-I understand what’s in your heart, but this isn’t the way!”
“I won’t—” The blade pressed deeper still, tearing through layers of muscles, lighting up your entire nervous system with jagged shocks of pain. “I won’t let him win!”
“You must Realize me! There’s already been too much blood spilled, I-I have to accept my fate.” Her voice was a sad resignation. There were no words left in your mind to argue with, the only sounds you could make were animalistic screeches that left your ears ringing. The pain multiplied the deeper the blade went. Darkness danced around your vision, and your breathe came in quick pants. Falling limply against the desk, you realized you were at your limit.
“Fine, I’ll...I’ll Realize you.” The blade stilled.
Before Gabe could appear to assist, you heard the doors slam open with a frightening force. Somewhere distant gunshots rung out, but your mind faded to black before you could see who was pulling the trigger.