Red
chapter one
"...but instead, adventure found me."
Her eyes opened to the constant hum of the train and quiet, idle chatter of other passengers. It smelled like lunchtime, a menagerie of strong coffee and the slight, vinegar-y odour of sushi rice. For a moment, she wondered if it'd be a good idea to grab lunch while the carts were still making their way down the aisle, but decided against it. Her flight to Tokyo had been long and uncomfortable, exhaustion forcing her appetite away. The only thing Mia Kurosawa was interested in, in all honesty, was more sleep.
Her eyelids fluttered shut only for a moment before she forced them wide open. A loud screech resounded throughout the train, and she grimaced. At first, Mia thought the train was suddenly braking, but she hadn't felt any kind of lurch, no rapid deceleration.
It quickly became obvious that the screech was human, and it was followed by others. People shouted, cried, and Mia shifted to the seat beside her, craning her neck to assess the situation. People were scrambling away from the back of their car, cramming themselves into the spaces between seats. It was no wonder; three men stood in front of the door leading to the car behind them, clad in ill-fitting military surplus clothes, armed with serious-looking assault rifles.
They began barking out orders in Japanese, but through the noise of the panic and the drumming of her own heartbeat in her ears, Mia only managed to catch a fragment of a phrase: everyone shut the fuck up.
That's not happening any time soon.
The hijackers seemed to realize that, and one of them turned his gun towards one of the windows. He fired two shots, shattering the glass. The noises stopped, although Mia still heard a terrified whimper or two.
"We're here for someone specific. If she hands herself over, no one gets hurt." The announcement was made in complete monotone, but the voice itself was harsh and alluded to violence. Mia saw several people look around, wary, hoping that whomever the hijacker was talking about would be heroic enough to step up. No one did.
A long stretch of silence passed, and when no one moved, the hijacker who spoke twisted his lips into a snarl. "No? You're not brave enough to turn yourself in? That's a shame." He made a grab for the nearest person–a little boy huddling in his mother's arms.
He screamed, throwing pathetic punches that didn't even reach the man. His mother cried out, reaching for him and pleading. Mia felt her gut twist, and her hands closed around the armrest, knuckles turning white.
One of the other men turned his gun towards the boy, pressing the muzzle against the skull. The kid–no more than seven, if Mia had to guess, started crying, trying so desperately to fight his way out of the man's grasp. His mother's sobs only became louder.
Mia took a moment to scan a crowd–who were they looking for? Though she wasn't in a good position to see every passenger, no one seemed like they knew what the hell was going on. Granted, if the woman they were looking for was trying to hide, she would have no problems fitting right in with the terrified passengers.
"I'm giving you the count of three…" The man spoke slowly, menace finally colouring that toneless voice. "One…." The mother choked out a sob, the child's crying became screaming.
"Two…" Mia turned away, knowing she shouldn't, but also knowing she couldn't watch a seven year old get shot in the head.
Three, never came. The door at the other end of the train, the one leading to the car in front of theirs, swung open, a man stepping through. His face was veiled in the shadow from his cap, and his clothes–civilian–were just as ill-fitting as the hijackers' military wear. One of the hijackers swore and began shooting.
The screams erupted again, people diving beneath their seats to get out of the way. The man in the cap seemed barely fazed, running and leaping through the aisles and over seats towards the shooter. In seconds, he'd reached the hijackers, left hand closed around the muzzle of the rifle. Mia's eyes widened when she saw the metal bend, twisting and turning the gun into little more than a cumbersome bludgeon.
Seeing that his gun could no longer shoot, the hijacker seemed to think that a bludgeon was exactly what its new purpose should be. He wrenched the weapon away just as the cap-man was letting go, attempting a swing at his adversary's head. Cap-man dodged, grabbed hold of the hijacker's arm, and threw him across the car. He smashed into the door that cap-man had used to enter, leaving a large dent where he'd hit.
What the hell is he? No human could possess that sort of strength
Mia didn't have much time to think, though. The other hijackers were retreating, taking the child with them. The cap-man gave chase, but Mia wasn't sure if he really cared for the welfare of the little boy, if he'd mind at all that the seven year old became collateral damage. Her eyes swept back to the third hijacker, crumpled and motionless by the other door.
Sucking in huge breath, Mia stood from her seat, walking down the aisle and ignoring how unsteady her stride was, how her legs felt like jelly. She dropped to her knees beside the man, and she could feel the stares of the other passengers, hear the pitiful cries of the young mother at the other end of the car. Swallowing her fear, Mia reached a hand out, pressing her index and middle fingers to a spot just below the man's jawline.
No pulse.
She supposed that was a relief, but Mia didn't feel very relieved. Hesitantly, she turned her gaze to his attire–surely, he had more than just a rifle on him. She spotted a handgun, some devices she couldn't quite identify, and a large, scary-looking knife. Mia went with the knife.
She managed to detach the sheath from his utility belt, and closing her fingers around the entire thing, took off in the other direction, pausing only when she reached the mother.
"I'm going to try to get your son back, okay?" she said, trying to sound as reassuring as she could. The woman looked up to her, and it looked like she was trying to decide on how to react.
"Are you the one they were looking for?" There was just a smidge of accusation in her voice, though Mia couldn't blame her.
"No. I don't know who they're looking for. But if she's not going to do anything…I will." She left after giving the woman a small and hopefully reassuring smile.
The next car was eerily empty, without a single sign of any passenger. No garbage from lunch time, no personal items left on the seats, no bags. She was certain that people had gotten on in the car in front of theirs, though she had to admit that she wasn't paying that the utmost attention when she'd boarded herself. Mia had still been exhausted from her flight.
As quietly as she could, Mia treaded down the aisle, scanning the seats as if someone could be hiding in them. When she reached the end of the car, though, no one had shot at her, or jumped out at her. It seemed that the car truly was empty, and the thought didn't make Mia feel any better. Her heart continued pounding, the sound a steady drum beat against her skull.
Gingerly, Mia turned the door handle, grimacing when she heard banging and muffled yelling from the next car when she stepped onto the platform in between. When she opened the second door, she tumbled through, ducking immediately behind the nearest seat. A knife sailed over her head as she did, clattering and likely shattering the small window in the door. One of the hijackers was engaged in serious combat with the cap-man, who was no longer wearing a cap. His chin-length hair still covered most of his features, but Mia caught a brief glance of blue eyes, stubble, and a ferocity that assured her he wasn't planning to lose.
The remaining hijacker still had his gun pointed at the little boy.
It seemed like they'd momentarily forgot that she'd arrived, and Mia planned on using that to her advantage. Keeping low, she slinked through the seats, remaining silent although the noise of the fight would have covered any sounds she made, anyway.
The journey was a long one, made with bated breath. Mia had to stop every once in a while, whenever the cap-man and the hijacker came up a little too close. She had to formulate a plan while trying to avoid being detected, and even for someone as good at multi-tasking as she was, that was quite a feat.
In the end, she knew she was going to have to cause some bodily harm, and only hoped she was fast enough to prevent the little boy from getting shot. With his eyes on the fight, the man keeping the boy captive didn't even notice Mia as she snuck up beside him.
Her hands suddenly felt numb and the knife felt slippery in her grip. She'd gotten it out of its sheath just a moment ago, the leather contraption lying at her feet as she shifted her gaze between the captor and the fight. Hoping with everything she's got that her timing was good, Mia leapt up, slamming the blade into the man. The blade pushed through the skin and flesh on the junction between the man's neck and shoulder, and he howled, instinctively turning around and forgetting the boy.
Bracing herself, Mia closed her hand into a fist, tucking her thumb beneath her fingers instead of on top–something she'd read about, though she couldn't remember where and when, or even why–and punched him, miraculously hitting his nose. She could feel the cartilage shift and shatter, and as his hands came up to cover it, Mia quite savagely wrenched the knife out of the man's shoulder, and ducked to pull the boy away, pushing him behind her.
She was fast, but not fast enough to react to the other hijacker, who'd heard his buddy cry out in pain. She looked up to see a gun pointed at her, saw the man's finger close around the trigger. Mia heard the gunshot, too, had just enough time to close her eyes–
But the bullet never came.
Instead, she heard it ricochet, a strange sound that was simultaneously dull and sharp. Her eyes opened, and cap-man had gotten himself between the gun and Mia, holding up an arm. Somewhere in the middle of her raging heartbeat and the fear that snaked up her spine, Mia wondered, what happened to the shot? The man certainly didn't look like he'd been shot, but she didn't see anything that could have deflected a bullet.
Well, until cap-man swing his left arm. It was such a brief glance, and Mia did not exactly have the best viewing angle, but she saw something glint off his arm beneath the fabric of his jacket. Something metal, maybe? She had no idea, nor did she have any time to think. The man she'd stabbed had crumpled in a heap across from her, barely conscious from the blood loss. She didn't severe a major artery, but it was clear that she'd managed to do just enough damage and severe enough vessels that he was bleeding out, fast.
There was a dull, sick feeling from the thought that she'd be his killer, though the man was not yet dead.
Mia didn't really have the time or energy to think about that for too long, though.
The remaining hijacker and cap-man were fighting once again, moving away from Mia, towards the back end of the car. It occurred to her that cap-man might be leading the fight away from them, but she dismissed it quickly. Cap-man threw a punch, and it landed hard on the man's face. He was thrown down the aisle, landing just a metre in front of the back door. Gritting his teeth, the man tore the door open, disappearing not into the car behind them but up. Cap-man went after him, leaving Mia with a barely-conscious hijacker and a little boy too scared to cry.
She opted to ignore the hijacker, standing up and gently tugging the little boy down the aisle. "Let's see if your mom's okay, ne?" she told him, softening her voice. Mia paused when she opened the door, but no one came toward her, and she hurried through the car behind them, pausing before they reached the car full of passengers.
She peered through the small window, relieved to see the passengers, though still looking terrified, alive. Tentatively, she opened the door, pulling the little boy along still.
The mother was the first to move, a cry of relief shaking her petite body as she pulled her son toward her. A shocked moment of silence followed, then the passengers erupted into cheers and questions. A few people approached Mia, clapping her on the shoulder like she was a hero. Others shouted questions at her, some accusing and others still scared.
"I don't know," Mia answered, again and again, raising her voice over the noise. "I don't know what's going on!"
She suddenly felt very tired, as if she'd actually exerted herself. Mia knew that her mind was catching up with everything that's happened, and it was overwhelming. The train had been hijacked; a little boy was taken hostage. Mia likely killed a man, and two men were still fighting, somewhere above them.
One of those men saved her life.
At least, she thought he did. Mia didn't know–she didn't know anything.
She just wanted to sit down, close her eyes, and hope that everything was done and there was a happy ending by the time she woke up. The crowd and her conscience and her curiosity stopped her from doing anything like that, though. What was going on? Who was the woman those hijackers wanted–who were the hijackers, and the man in the cap?
Mia turned to look over her shoulder. What was happening on top of the train?
Something nagged at her to go, pushed her towards the door. Clearly, whatever it was, it wasn't her sense of self-preservation. "I need to help him," she murmured in English, not caring if anyone understood or even heard her. Stepping back from the people approaching her, Mia slipped behind the door, standing on the exposed platform between train cars. She looked at one of the railings, seeing scuff marks from someone's boot. Gritting her teeth, Mia grabbed hold of a metal bar beside the next train's door, planted one sneaker-clad foot on the railing, and hoisted herself up.
She remained crouching, almost crawling along the top of the train car in an attempt to keep her center of gravity as low as possible. Flying off the top of a moving train didn't seem particularly appealing.
Mia didn't have to search very long for cap-man and the last (or so she hoped) hijacker; they were still going at it at the other end of the train car. She crept along, trying to get closer while wondering what it was she was planning to do.
The hijacker's back was to her, and as she neared, cap-man shot her a glance. She finally got a good look at his face; young, pretty handsome though unkempt, with striking blue eyes, strong nose and thin, recurve-bow shaped lips. His expression was neutral, though Mia swore she saw his one brow lift slightly in surprise.
His attention returned to the fight, which was probably a good idea–but that rendered him slightly oblivious to the second man–so much for last hijacker–sneaking up behind him. Mia saw the top of someone's head bob up from the other end of the car, and she called out a warning before she even realized she did.
Cap-man ducked beneath a punch, rolling over and striking out with a leg to deal with the man behind him. Mia quickened her pace now, moving in a crawl-run towards them. The hijackers had seen her, but evidently, cap-man was a bigger threat, and no one even spared her a second glance as she closed the distance. The knife gripped firmly in her hand, Mia swung her arm, the blade ripping across the hijacker's calf and tearing through his pant leg and flesh. She heard an awful growl, and he swung toward her.
Eyes wide, Mia stumbled backwards as he lunged, but his balance had been compromised thanks to her knife, and he fell short. Tightening her jaw, Mia shifted her legs in front of her, kicking both of them out. The impact reverberated up both legs, and Mia grimaced, sliding backwards to put some distance between her and the hijacker.
The man only took a moment to recover before coming toward her again, towering over her as Mia, quite pathetically, continued to shuffle back on her butt. When he lunged at her again, Mia rolled to the left. She felt a hand close around her ankle and she was yanked back.
Her hands scrabbled for purchase on the metallic train roof, but the momentum of the train was working in her attacker's favor. She skittered across the roof, twisting to avoid having her head stomped on by what was likely steel-toed boots. Desperate, now, Mia swung her knife arm again, trying to catch her assailant's shin this time. Apparently expecting the move, he swatted her hand, the knife flying out of her grip and tumbling off the side of the train.
The man snarled at her, though from Mia's position, it looked more like a predatory grin. Hand still around her ankle, the man pulled Mia towards him, and she saw him reaching behind his back, probably for a weapon. She kicked and twisted and did everything she could to get out of his way, but his grip was like a vice and–
An arm wrapped around the hijacker's throat, pulling him back. He released Mia's leg, arms flying up to fight off cap-man, who'd apparently dealt with the other attacker already. Breathing hard, Mia inched backwards, trying to ignore the pain in her ankle. Cap-man and hijacker were fighting again, their movement too fast for Mia to follow. She took the opportunity to catch her breath, though there was little she could do for her the rapid and thunderous thumping of her heart.
The two men were grappling each other now, teetering dangerously close to the edge of the train. Mia's breath caught in her throat, and she watched as they skimmed the edge, twisting and turning like they were in some bizarre and violent dance. Then–cap-man managed to maneuver their bodies so that the hijacker was closer to the edge, and he swept his leg against the hijacker's, forcing him to lose balance and slip–off the train.
The hijacker still had a firm grip on cap-man's jacket, though, and the combination of their respective weight and the movement of the train, cap-man went over, too.
Eyes opened wide enough for her eyeballs to pop out, Mia scrambled over to where they'd fallen, ignoring the dull ache in her right leg. She peered over the edge; the hijacker was gone, and cap-man was hanging on the side of the train, his gloved hand digging in to the metal. She remembered the way he'd killed a man by simply throwing him, denting a metal door in the process. Wherever that strength came from (probably the glint of metal she'd previously seen), it was keeping him from flying off the train and into the brambles. Mia didn't know if he was superhuman, too, but she suspected that if the fall didn't kill him, he'd at least be severely injured.
She bit her lip, a moment's indecision hitting her. This was definitely not something she wanted to be involved in–but wasn't she already? If not by going after the hijacker who'd taken the little boy, then certainly, coming up to the roof of the train meant she was in too far to just back away and return to her seat, now.
Clenching her jaw, Mia dropped to her knees, then lay flat on her stomach while reaching over the edge of the train. "Take my hand!" She hoped that the man was an English speaker–he was clearly not Japanese.
Cap-man hesitated, staring at her with an expression she couldn't identify. Then, just as she thought he was going to just let go, he reached up with his other hand. His fingers closed around her wrist, and Mia tightened her grip around his, gritting her teeth as she pulled him up.
"Holy fucking shit," she hissed, suddenly worried that he might just tear her arm out of its socket. Cap-man didn't look that heavy, but Mia didn't exactly have impressive physique, and by the time she'd pulled cap-man up (or, at least, helped pull him up, because she was pretty sure that he did most of the work, anyway), she was practically lying on the train roof, her arm more sore than it had ever been in the few occasions Mia had actually hit the gym.
During her recovery, Mia could feel eyes on her, and she furtively looked up. Cap-man was still on his hands and knees, but he was staring at her with such intensity, she almost shrunk back. "You saved my life, before," she blurted, though the man hadn't said anything. "It's only fair."
"You're naïve." His voice was rough, though Mia thought it was more from disuse than a natural huskiness. Despite every cell in her body screaming, danger, Mia frowned, feeling just a little indignant. Okay, so maybe it was sort of true; while she might be fast, and she fancied herself quite clever, it wasn't the first time Mia threw away her sense of self-preservation in order to help someone she barely knew.
Out of the corner of her eyes, Mia saw someone at the other end of the train, the top of a head skimming just the edge, like before. Then, the face emerged, and she recognized it as the other hijacker, the one she'd thought cap-man had already dealt with while she was occupied.
Her nerves were frayed, her body sore and exhausted, and her mind a maelstrom of horror and confusion and noise–but somehow, her instincts were still intact. Without even thinking about it, Mia reached forward, pulling a handgun out of its holster on cap-man's hip, and aimed. The shot bounced off the train's roof, though it was close enough to bring the hijacker to a momentary halt.
"You have awful aim." The voice came from somewhere close, and Mia felt the man's breath on her ear. He was reaching over her, taking the gun out of her hand and firing again, before the hijacker had a chance to climb back up. The bullet struck him in the shoulder, the force of it pushing him off balance. Mia tensed when she saw him fly backwards, hitting the wall of the train car behind this one before tumbling off the platform.
She'd almost forgotten how invasively close cap-man was to her until she felt him shift slightly. Mia turned to face him, only to find that his face was hovering almost directly above hers, staring at her like he was trying to solve a puzzle. "My aim isn't awful," she said, making an effort to hide the tremor in her voice–and failing. "I'd say I have exceptional aim for someone who's never touched a loaded gun before."
The man's brows shot up, and quite impossibly, he actually looked like he wanted to laugh. He caught himself in time, though, and his features rearranged again into that intense, passive expression.
When he didn't move, though, Mia had to clear her throat. "Do you, uh, mind….?" Perhaps the rush of the fight was subsiding, as Mia suddenly remembered that she really did not like people being in her personal space.
Keeping a neutral expression, the man rose to move off of her, and Mia was about to slide away when she noticed–of course, my luck is just amazing today–a tunnel, approaching fast. Apparently, the moment of reprieve hadn't taken the edge off of her, and she reacted quickly, unconsciously. One hand closed around the man's jacket, and she jerked her arm, pulling him down just as their section of the train entered the tunnel.
The darkness couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but it felt uncomfortably long for Mia, who could feel the heat off the man's body, hear his breaths against her ear, his heartbeat against her chest.
Finally, darkness gave way to sunlight again, and she unceremoniously pushed cap-man off her, careful not to send him tumbling off the train. He was on his feet in an instant, and looking down at her, his brows slightly furrowed. "Who are you?" If there was any innocent curiosity in that question, Mia didn't hear it. Though it still looked like he was trying to figure her out, there was a particular way the man was standing, the way his eyes bore into her; distrust.
"No one important," she answered, slowly as if still deliberating. It was a bit self-deprecating, but it was the truth, and probably the safest answer. "I was just trying to make sure that little boy didn't get hurt."
Mia made no effort to stand up, and the howl of the wind made it difficult to speak. Exhaustion hit her like a bullet train–a fitting simile, all things considered. Her legs felt weak, her eyes wanted to close. Still, she kept her gaze on the man, finally given the chance to look at him, assess.
"Who are you?" she asked, hoping she sounded a little more authoritative than tired and confused. Oh, she had her guesses, but her mind felt fried, heavy with exhaustion and buzzing with leftover terror.
A conflicted look flitted across his face, and for the briefest of moments, it looked like he was going to give her an answer, before deciding against it. He returned to staring at her for a moment, before finally deciding that she wasn't a threat. Without another word, he turned, heading towards the end of the train car.
Mia watched his retreating back for a second before realizing that she should probably get down, too. After all, her face was beginning to feel a bit sore from the rush of wind, and she had a feeling her hair was faring no better. Awkwardly, and admittedly a little relieved that cap-man wasn't there to watch her, Mia shuffled across the train roof, pausing every time the train shifted beneath her.
She eventually reached the end, and a quick glance at the platform below confirmed what she'd previously thought; the man had moved on to whatever his next objective was. Mia should be relieved–maybe this whole mess was over–but really, she was just tired.
When she finally returned to her original train car, she was, once again, greeted with questions, none of which she could really answer. They pushed as closely to her as they could, questions rising into yelling, dissolving into smaller arguments between different passengers. Mia almost wished that she could just tell them something to placate them, get them to shut up, but her body betrayed her, giving into exhaustion.
Silently, Mia pushed through the crowd, not acknowledging a single person. Almost absent-mindedly, Mia reached her seat, digging into her knapsack for her phone and earphones. As if her train ride hadn't been interrupted by hijackers, Mia plugged the earbuds in, curled up in her seat, and slipped into a deep sleep, effectively drowning out her fellow passengers with music.