Kendra awakened from her fitful,dreamless sleep upon the hard bench in the locked,barren room. Her eyes watered,her throat was dry. It took a few moments for her circumstances to come back to mind. She couldn't believe that ransom kidnappings still happened in this day and age,and yet,here she was,snatched up from her family's home,tied up in a van,and dragged to god knows where.
Up till now,she'd say her life was pretty good,especially by the standards of a foreign adoptee. Her parents never really talked about how or where they'd met her. Not that she would remember,being less than a year old at the time. Of course,they'd taken every length to make her adoption look a hundred percent legal and above-board. And Kendra,to their joy,had thrived and excelled. Her hardships were those of academia and art,far removed from the poverty,violence and struggle she might have known in another life. Until now,at least.
Rousing herself to her feet,she came to the realization that she could barely hear a thing coming from outside the room,not the voices or movements of her kidnappers,nothing that might tell her where she was,not even the slightest sound that might tell her she wasn't totally,utterly alone.
Resolving to at least try for the least she could do to get out of the bind she was in,Kendra stepped slightly towards the solid door,and drew in as deep a breath as she could manage in her present state,before her intended scream was interrupted by the echo of gunfire in the distance.
Immediately,she crouched down instinctively,even if there was nothing to take cover from just yet. Was it the police? Was she saved? But there were no sirens!
The gunfire echoed again,closer,together with the sound of several voices,screaming and swearing in a surprising range of variations. And then,for a few moments,silence.
This time,the silence was broken by the sound of some sort of motor revving up,accompanied by a woman's voice,curiously accented.
"C'mon and get this open Jack,the cops'll be here any-"
Both the sounds were interrupted by a shotgun blast and the door slamming open.
The intruders stepped in with weapons drawn,briefly sweeping over the room,before their gaze finally rested on the girl before them,doubled over in a vain bid to make herself safe from whatever might be flying at her next.
"Can you stand? Come on then,up ye go..." The woman's voice was a little drowned out by the ringing in her ears,but Kendra could hear her well enough as she lifted her onto the bench and set her up.
She blinked as she took the sight in. Her seeming saviors,the four of them all masked. The woman was closest to her,wearing a mask with painted lips and a clover printed on it. Another figure in a letterman jacket,eyeing her sideways as one might expect a chicken to,buzzsaw in hand. Leaning near the door,a shaven man managing to look dissapointed that the large bag full of machine parts he was carrying wasn't of use. And striding straight towards her,laying the smoking shotgun on the floor,and falling to his knees before her,a bald man in a beige suit,the red and white of his mask the only thing she could look at as he approached her.
"Kento..." he murmured.
It was a few seconds before Kendra could remember how to speak,as she drew away from the man and did her best to clear her throat. "N-no,I'm Kendra. Y-you guys are here to get me out,right?"
Clover got out,stepping towards the door as she checked her watch. "Make this quick,Jiro. We gotta clear out in five."
Jacket followed,clicking a button on their tape recorder. "Sincere conversation is an integral part of bonding with your child."
Jiro paused,before lifting the mask off his face,dropping that to the floor as well,as he reached out briefly,before drawing back. "It's me...your father." His voice was subdued compared to his usual tone,his jaw trembling ever so slightly as his blue eyes stared into hers.
"You're not..." Kendra began to object,before realization dawned. So this was it. The parents she'd never known,from a faraway land. Or at least,one of them. She never given much thought to finding them,let alone expected to meet them like this,surrounded by the smell of dust and gunpowder.
She reached out in turn,hand cupping the older man's wrinkled,tanned face. It was almost like staring into a mirror,or an old,wrinkled,faded photograph. What life might have been,in a far removed world.
Jiro wanted to feel the same,wanted so desperately to gaze upon the pools of brown he so loved,wanted to say "You have your mother's eyes". To find his child,the one trace of Yoshimi in the world that he could hold on to. But all he could see,all he could feel now that the deed was finally done,his family reunited,was this reflection of himself,his shame and failure to protect her gathered in the sea of blue he now beheld.
After all,she didn't even know the circumstances of her birth,or her departure,or the reason for his absence. That life had torn and stabbed at him for decades,but it never touched her. Perhaps it should stay that way.
Clover's voice rang out,derailing both their trains of thought. "Is family bonding time over or not?! The Black Marias are pullin' up!"
Silently,in resignation,Jiro rose to his feet and put his hand out to Kendra. Her gaze still didn't leave his,even as the sirens got closer. A few seconds later,he picked up the shotgun and turned to leave with the others.
As the police swarmed into the room her saviors vacated just a moment before,Kendra's eyes fell upon the discarded mask,laying on the ground. She'd been found,but someone just as valuable to her,was lost again.