The Victim's Stories
Yosuke
AN: This is the chapter that concludes all of the previous stories. There will an epilogue uploaded afterwards.
I don't know if Usagi knows what I've done. I've been sitting here thinking it over and wondering if Usagi will even come for me at this point. If he does know, I can't even guess whether he would leave me in here like putting a child in time-out corner, or if he would come retrieve me to take me home and scold me for putting such a dent in his work relationship.
As it turned out, the owner of the car was an intern for a major recording studio based one city over, and had been parked at a smaller branch overnight as part of his work description. He'd seemed like a nice enough fellow after he was finished beating the crap out of me. After the police had surmised that I wasn't on drugs or intoxicated, and that I was in a sound state of mind, and after hearing me explain that I thought it was someone else's car, the man had been nice enough to not press charges. But I had destroyed another person's property, so I was required to sit in jail for one night while they examined the evidence. I don't have much of a defense built up if they decide to question me. All I can say is "Oops" and bat my eyelashes. Maybe I could play the "I have a rich boyfriend" card, but I'm not sure how far that'll get me.
I keep thinking it would've been easier if that umbrella I'd been using to smash the man's car to pitiful little pieces had been a little less sturdy. If it could've just broken on the first few swings, I would've stopped and called it a night. But that thing had been made of whatever superheroes' weapons were made of. I could fight crime with that damn thing! Or at least, I could have if the police hadn't taken it away. Because it had been used to destroy the car, it was considered evidence, and thanks to my lack of discretion, Marukawa Publishing had now been brought into all of this, seeing as it was an umbrella from their company.
To help everyone tally it all up, here is a complete list of everyone I've pissed off within the past few months: Ikuko Sakurabi, the owner of that formerly-nice foreign car, the local police department, Marukawa Publishing (including but not limited to Ms. Aikawa who is in charge of all of Usagi's public relations and very likely Ryuuichirou Isaka, Marukawa's senior managing director and a bit of a neighborhood bully when it comes to me and Usagi's relationship), and the cherry on top, Akihiko Usami. Well, I hadn't actually seen him since I'd destroyed that poor man's car, but I imagine he's none too happy with my performance. Especially since he doesn't like me going off by myself anymore, considering last time that happened, I was demoralized in more ways than one.
I hadn't even thought of how angry he'd be with me going out at night by myself after he specifically told me not to. Crap.
I've lost all track of time by this point, and I'm sure I should be a little more tired than I am now, but I can't find it in me to sleep. Usagi's disappointed stare haunts me just behind closed eyelids and I can't face that right now. Sleep just doesn't seem to be an option, so I opt to stay awake and patiently await my destiny at the other side of this fathomless night.
Far earlier than I expect, an officer arrives at my door, holding it open and gesturing for me to come out. I slip my arms into my coat and sigh heavily as I'm taken to sign a few papers, talk to a couple more people, then dumped into the reception area to come face-to-face with someone I very much did not want to see.
Ikuko Sakurabi.
I imagine the reaction I give is somewhat similar to a cat encountering a very big dog. My skin crawls and I cling tightly to my coat, suddenly wanting very much to be able to disappear inside of it. What was she doing here? How did she know about my imprisonment? Did she know about the destruction of the other car? Where was Usagi? Oh, god, where was Usagi?
In severe contrast to my own personal thoughts on the woman, Sakurabi smiles warmly at me like a mother encountering her estranged son and wraps me in her arms, her wiry, loathsome arms. She smells like retail perfume and (this might be an exaggeration) the stench of puppies being burned in Hellfire. If I squint hard enough, I can see the horns on her perfect little head.
"Oh, Misaki darling, I was so worried! I'm so happy you're okay! Look at you! You're simply a mess! Come, let's clean you up!" Ms. Sakurabi exclaims loudly enough for the uninterested woman sitting at the front desk to notice as well as the police officer who had escorted me from my cell. I grit my teeth and follow the crazy woman out of the building, well aware that I had probably gotten out early from my sentence thanks to her influence and money. That doesn't sit right in my head; I hate the idea of owing this witch anything.
Once we're outside in the dark early morning air, chilly and humid from last night's rain, she hooks her arm through mine and we walk together along the street like a couple of high school friends. I hate every moment of it, my skin tingling (in a bad way) and my hatred from last night raising to dangerous levels again.
"So, Misaki my dear, I heard you had a little accident."
I say nothing, biting my tongue to keep myself from digging myself any further down this hole than I am already.
"What are the odds that two of the same rare car are in the same city at the same time?"
I can't stand that she's touching me.
"But look, no hard feelings, okay?" She stops and turns to me, unhooking her arm from mine and looking me right in the eyes for a moment before slipping a pair of glittery sunglasses on, even though it's still dark out. "I get why you wanted to try and attack me, but let's just let it go, okay? Forgive and forget, as they say!"
I nearly stammer out a rage-filled response of how she deserved to have her car smashed in, but she's pulled out her phone and is ordering someone over the other end very quickly. Within moments of her hanging up, a car speeds into sight, a car I recognize, like seeing a ghost materializing from the mist. My heart sinks at the sight as I remember the faulty accusations I'd made against someone else's car and wonder vaguely what Usagi will think of me when he hears, if he hasn't already.
The ever-familiar Tetsuo pops out once the car pulls to a stop at the curb beside us and rushes around to open the door for us. Sakurabi turns to me then, a glistening white smile breaking through her lips as she gestures to the car. "Why don't you join me? I'm sure you've taken the time to consider my proposal. Let's discuss some details, shall we?"
I don't see a choice, my feet feeling like lead and my breathing all but unnoticeable to myself as I contemplate what will happen once I enter that car. Without realizing it, I've taken a few steps forward, prepared to face what will surely be my demise when I all too suddenly notice something surprising and rather frightening.
Upon glancing up at Tetsuo in my absentminded steps to the vehicle, I catch a glimpse at his neck and see, poking out from between the joining folds of his button-up, a little glimmer of silver.
A silver dogtag on a thin chain.
I make a noise then, one I don't ever recall making in my entire life, something pained and horrified like when one sees a dead body in the street as I quickly fall back a few steps, my hand flying to my mouth as the haunting images of that little silver speck of light swaying before my eyes as I was sullied so terribly play again and again within my mind. My mouth gapes as I continue to shuffle backwards until I'm pressed against a wall of a store. Sakurabi and Tetsuo stare at me, her gaze calm and conniving when she dips her head down to look at me from over her sunglasses, and his unreadable behind his own pair of shades.
"Something wrong, Misaki dear?" The witch asks sweetly, cocking her head to the side and smiling. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Stay away from me," I whisper out hoarsely, and without warning I take off down the street, puddles from the earlier rain flaring wildly in my wake as I try to race to freedom. I can't get in the car with them. I can't be near them. They are going to do something else to me, something more to further threaten me. I have to get away. I have to get to Usagi! Usagi will protect me!
I think I only make it a few buildings down before I feel a strong, heavy hand on my arm, yanking me backwards and sending me into the firm frame of a taller person. Another hand grabs my other arm to fully restrain me, and I buck wildly against them.
"Stop it! Let me go! Let me go right now!"
I manage to glimpse up for a second in my wild panic to see Tetsuo holding me, fingers vice-like on my arms and face unreadable behind his shades. Nausea almost overcomes me again, my stomach roiling around inside me at the mere thought of this man putting his hands on me in any way again. Tetsuo had been one of the men in that unfamiliar room that day, doing what he wanted with me, each mortifying moment, each position caught in those despicable snapshots. And he knows it very well. He's probably thinking about it at this very moment, probably knowing how easy it is to hold me down.
A cry breaks free from my mouth as I continue to thrash against his grasp, though I'm sure this goes unnoticed to the assistant as he drags me back towards the car with ease, the bones in my arms feeling ready to break from the pressure he's putting on them. I can see Sakurabi there, a vicious white smile on her face as she stands patiently, drumming her red nails against her arm in anticipation. I can't get back in that car. I can't do it! It'll be even worse than my previous abduction! They'll do... other things, worse things! I can't do it! Someone help me! Anyone! Usagi! Where is Usagi?
Any hope I felt before of Usagi coming to my rescue seems to shatter in an instant. He saw me defiled, he saw the pictures, the ways I'd been mistreated. Things he'd only ever done to me, ways he'd touched me, places he'd kissed me, were all tainted by the man currently dragging me to my doom. And to top it all off, Usagi was probably well aware of the vandalism I'd caused to the intern's car. He must be so ashamed. And disgusted. He can't possibly want me anymore. I've caused so much trouble for him already, not to mention Marukawa Publishing is likely pissed off too since I dragged their name into this, or rather, smashed it into an innocent vehicle a few times.
Was this it? Was I never going to see Usagi again? Was he going to turn his back on me out of disgust and spite? I can't blame him if he does, though every fiber of my being is screaming for him. Usagi loves me, but if you piss someone off enough... What's the point of trying to make it work when you've done so much wrong?
I almost give up now, my body going flaccid in the man's grasp at the thought of never seeing Usagi again. Will Usagi hate me even more now, when he hears of whatever Sakurabi will have done to me after today? Maybe this is for the best. Sakurabi called me a distraction, and apparently Usagi hasn't been giving enough product for SDI lately. Perhaps she was right. If I leave now, Usagi can work properly again, he can earn his profits back and everyone carries on happily. Everyone except for... me.
That's okay, I guess. I can't be selfish. If everything works out better with me out of the way, then I suppose it's time I left. My heart wrenches in my chest at the thought as the dark oblivion of the car interior closes in on me.
But it comes to an abrupt halt as I'm thrown sideways, almost hitting the car door and falling to my side. Tetsuo's hands are no longer on me, and when I turn to look, I see the other man also on the ground, on his back with a hand clutching his face. In my peripheral, I see Ms. Sakurabi staring in complete shock at something on the other side of me, towards the car. I whip my head around to see.
Usagi.
I have never seen him like this, alight with anger and a look in his eyes that suggests he is ready to kill something, or someone. My breath catches in my throat, tears almost springing to my eyes as I'm split between the urges to crawl into his arms or run for my life. In the end, I stay on the ground, stupefied and wondering what will happen next.
Usagi strides with long, powerful steps past me (I swear I feel the ground shake) and towards the laid-out Tetsuo, reaching a hand down to grasp the silver dogtag laying on his chest. In one swift motion, he yanks it off easily and brings it up to his own face, staring at it intently before pocketing it and reaching down again to grip the other man by his shirt collar. With a strength I've never seen him use before, Usagi lifts the other man's torso off the ground and brings him nearer to his face so that he can hiss directly to him, "I hope the money you made is worth every broken bone you're about to have."
That was my cue, as if a fire had been lit beneath me, to sail to my feet and grab onto Usagi's arm as tightly as I can, preventing him from mauling the man to near-death as I can tell he wants very much to do.
"Usagi, please! Don't do it! It's not worth it! It's just going to be too much trouble later!" I plead with him, too ashamed to look into his eyes but too desperate to let him go. If he pummels Tetsuo, it'll be too difficult to resolve later. Police would be brought back into the matter, and Usagi could wind up in jail. I have to keep anymore bad things from happening to Usagi, especially when it was all my fault to begin with.
The muscles in my lover's arm are strained in his attempt to keep his hold on the assistant's shirt, but after a moment he drops him, Tetsuo falling back to the ground with a heavy 'thud' and a groan. Usagi calmly straightens himself, but I can't tell if he's looking at me. I'm too scared to look. Instead, I glimpse over at Ms. Sakurabi, who looks a little pale, but forces a nervous smile.
"Well, Mr. Usami, it's... It's nice to see you."
Usagi says nothing in response, and I can tell without even looking at him that he's staring right at her with a look that could kill.
"Ikuko Sakurabi, right?" he says calmly, catching us both off guard. After a moment, Ms. Sakurabi nods a little, still smiling.
"Yes, of Sakurabi Digital Industries. I print your books."
"You also take awful pictures." Usagi's arm moves out of my grasp to reach into his pocket and pull out the digital camera he'd been shipped. Without any thought, he drops the device, which promptly lands on Tetsuo's face, who gripes loudly and clutches his abused chin. Usagi continues, "The memory card has the SDI logo on it. I knew it was you the moment I took it out of the camera."
Sakurabi almost looks insulted for a moment. "How? Anyone could own a memory card from my company!"
"You're the only one who would use one, though." His voice is icy, and I dread looking at him, so I keep my eyes on Sakurabi, withdrawing a few feet just in case Usagi decides to get violent again. "SDI's profits are dropping, and I haven't met a single person who's bought any sort of camera equipment from you. It's low-grade, a cheap knock-off of better brands at twice the price. It might as well have 'Made In China' stamped on it."
The blonde demon looks to be on the verge of spitting curses at my mentor, her hands fisting at her sides in total, unbridled anger at the thought of her own products being insulted.
"How dare you? SDI has been behind you every step of the way, supporting you, making you money-"
"Wrong," Usagi cuts her off. "You were behind me when I started showing I was worth a number with a few more zeroes behind it. You supported me when you put money on me like a stock. And you didn't make me any money, I made the money myself. I wrote the books, and Marukawa made them profitable by selling them. You just gave me some paper, which I'm now getting from other sources."
Both Sakurabi and I turn to look at Usagi in shock, but she speaks first.
"What... What do you mean?"
"I've talked it over with Ryuuichirou Isaka, the senior managing director at Marukawa. You remember him, right? The one who signed the contract with SDI? He's decided that you haven't met the terms of the conditions set by the contract, and provided us with substandard products to work with. You also violated the contract by directly contacting authors to harass them into furthering their workflow, and also by betting on them, which is essentially what you are doing by putting money on our names and seeing how many copies of our books we sell." Somewhere during that explanation, Usagi had taken out a cigarette and flicked open his lighter, taking a quick drag. I imagine it's to help relieve some of the stress, to keep himself from wailing on her himself. When the smoke clears from his face, I can see his unmoving, unwavering glare staring directly into the woman's soul (if she has one).
"Ms. Sakurabi, I'm afraid it's not working out. Marukawa Publishing will no longer be requiring your services, and will begin with another company, one that doesn't drug and rape teenagers, beginning next month. The paperwork has already been mailed to your office. Thank you for your time and effort. Have a pleasant day." And just like that, the frigid atmosphere is gone; Usagi turns towards me, dropping his cigarette on the ground, and I have to avoid eye contact quickly before I can see any disappointment in his face. I don't want to see how much he hates me. I'm happy he could save me, but I'm worried that might just be a parting gift.
Usagi's hands immediately find my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks as he tries to persuade me to look at him, but I can't. I instead fall into his chest, gripping onto his shirt and holding on as the urge to cry becomes nearly overwhelming. From behind us I can hear Sakurabi swearing, promising us that "we'll be sorry" and "she'll get us for this" before she climbs into her car and drives off, reminding me of an evil goon from some animated children's movie. Tetsuo seems to notice his boss has left him for dead and clambers to his feet, rushing away as well. The situation doesn't necessarily feel resolved, but I imagine Usagi has something much bigger in mind planned for later. That woman hurt me in ways I can never fully express, and I doubt my mentor will let her get away with that.
It takes a few moments of reinforcement in my mind, telling myself that Usagi is really here and I'm not at that evil woman's mercy anymore, before I pull away and dare to glimpse up into his eyes.
There is no hatred or spite or any distance built between us. His eyes are honest and remorseful, his hands returning to my face and touching me gently.
"Misaki, these bruises..."
For the first time, I notice the small spots of pain on various parts of my body, and I quickly realize that, in my absentminded state on the asphalt after I'd smashed the man's car to hell and back, I hadn't escaped from that moment as unscathed as I thought. I'd been aware of how he'd beaten the crap out of me, but I hadn't felt a moment of it. The pain had been dulled by my own preoccupation with the moment at hand, too oblivious by how easily and violently I had let myself slip into such rage.
Takahiro will never believe me when I tell him I destroyed a man's car with an umbrella.
I shake my head and try to move Usagi's hands from my face. "I did something really stupid, Usagi. I'm... I'm so sorry."
"You were in jail, right?"
I look up at him in surprise. "Yeah... How...?"
"The car you roughed up rather impressively belonged to an acquaintance of mine." He refuses to let his hands move any further from me, intermittently touching my hair or my arms. "He was at a meeting I attended some while back to turn one of my books into a made-for-TV movie. He's going to be charged with overseeing the soundtrack. Pretty big break for an intern."
My jaw nearly falls open. What were the odds of that?
"He called me when he realized who you were. He said he saw you at my award party, but didn't know it was you until after he'd taken his anger out on you." His eyes change briefly, darkening, to show sweltering anger. "I'm none too happy with what he did, but we came to an agreement: He said if I didn't fire him from the movie project and don't pound his soul right out of his goddamn body, he wouldn't press charges for the damage to his car."
My face goes red at the reminder of the rage-driven incident I'd been a part of and I quickly bow my head to hide it. "Usagi, I'm really, really sorry. I'm such an idiot, I wasn't thinking..."
"You did it because you thought it was her car, right?"
I shrug a little. "Y-Yeah..."
"How long has she been harassing you?"
"Since the award party," I practically whisper. "I didn't lose my coat at school, she stole it at the party and sent it back to me later shredded to pieces. She also started rumors at the party that..." My voice dies out, too embarrassed to tell Usagi the truth, but he continues to stand patiently, waiting to hear.
"What rumors, Misaki?"
"She said... She told everyone that I was a prostitute, and you hired me for... for..."
Before I am aware of it, I'm enveloped in Usagi's arms, his body warm and his touch careful. He's aware of how much I've been hurt over the past few days and is trying so hard not to scare me off with his advances, despite how oblivious he normally is to my resentment of his affection.
"Misaki, I'm so sorry. I wish I'd known. If I'd known that that was being said at the party, I would've stopped them. As for the other night..."
"Don't, Usagi. It's okay."
"No, it's not." He doesn't let go, only continues to hold me like this will be the last time he'll ever get to see me. "I shouldn't have let you go out by yourself. I wish I could've helped you. You didn't deserve any of that."
"She did it to get me away from you." I pull away from Usagi's hold, looking up at his saddened gaze. "She wanted to scare me off, and to make me... disgusting to you."
Usagi's lips curl down in a disapproving expression, though I'm sure the heavy gaze isn't meant for me. Still seeming quite upset, his fingers lightly grasp my arm and he starts to head down the street a little ways, towing me along beside him. I barely even think about where we're headed, as I'm so focused on his upset features. Perhaps this cross stare is meant for me? Maybe he is disgusted by what's happened.
Before I am aware of it, I'm at the driver side door of Usagi's shiny, expensive car. I only stare at my reflection in the tinted windows for a moment before the doors unlock and I'm being persuaded inside. Normally, Usagi would just throw me in or demand I do so, but I think he's trying to keep his touches light and the mood calm, worried that any aggression, playful or not, will scare me into a shell. As much as I should tell him that I'm no more fragile than I was before, I think I'll hold off; it's nice not having to fend off his pushy advances for a while.
Though as it turns out, I'm wrong about that. I'm pushed in lightly to the passenger side through the driver side entrance, my back to the passenger door and my legs stretched out across the two seats. I notice Usagi climbing in after me, shutting the door and immediately moving himself between my legs. Now, the seating area of a sports car isn't really a place meant for making out, especially when one of the couple is as big as Akihiko Usami (who is rather tall and broad shouldered). The interior is more oval-shaped than anything, though the leg room is quite spacious. I imagine that this is what the inside of an egg would feel like. But the thought doesn't stay for long as I feel one of my legs pulled up between the cushions and Usagi's body, adequately spreading me for him, and my back pushed against the soft upholstery of the door.
Usagi kneels between my legs, his hands clutching at the sides of my face as he kisses me deeply, hotly, as if this kiss would heal everything between us and what had happened to me. My face immediately flares red, an ingrained reaction I doubt I'll ever overcome. I'm gradually shifted to sit more on his bent legs rather than the seat, and from here I can easily feel his pelvis grinding into mine, trying to elicit some reaction in me. Much to my own shame, it works, and I'm gradually becoming more aroused.
I don't mean to, but I whimper against his lips, which he seems to take as encouragement, his tongue searching my mouth voraciously and his fingers stroking gently against my scalp and neck, lulling me into a state of bliss I can't even begin to describe. When he parts to let me breathe, I see his impassioned eyes watching me, burning into me in a way I've rarely seen before.
"Misaki, I'm so sorry."
His voice reverberates in the silent car surrounded by the quiet early morning dark, and I have to concentrate to make my own voice work.
"Sorry... for what...?"
He kisses me again, this time briefly and his hands move down along my torso to slide my cashmere coat, the white one he'd bought me to replace my old, destroyed one, off of my shoulders.
"You shouldn't have had to suffer like that, not for me. You should've told me that bitch was messing with you, I would have-"
"Usagi, stop..."
"No, I won't Misaki. You didn't deserve to be hurt like that." His deft fingers unbutton my sweater-vest and push up the thin cotton shirt I'm wearing underneath. Craning his neck, he places soft kisses on my chest, not the usual lustful wet kisses, but chaste, apologetic kisses, as if to heal my bruises and reclaim what the men in that room that night had tried to take for themselves. "Please, Misaki, please come to me when you're hurting. I want to help you. I want to protect you. I love you, Misaki. Let me love you."
His lips find my neck and I'm suddenly puddy in his hands, a trembling, whimpering mess of Misaki as his fingers start to unbutton my jeans.
"U-Usagi..."
"I'm sorry, Misaki. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
The breath against my neck, the words being whispered straight into my ear and the shaking of his fingers against my belly tells me just what I need to know. He is sorry. He feels solely responsible for my pain, much like how guilty I felt for the death of my parents so many years ago. It's a pain sitting so deep, holding onto his heart so fiercely that it hurts him to even look at me. It was the anguish I've been catching glimpses of in his face that night. He couldn't protect me from Sakurabi before, and now he's dealing with his own reprimanding.
Understand this: Usagi doesn't cry. I have only seen him cry once, and that's something we don't talk about. He's always been very good at keeping his emotions bottled up, which I've never found very healthy but he seems to make it work, though every now and then those emotions fester so much within himself that they tend to come spilling out in ways only children display. But he doesn't cry, and I know at this moment, if he were a crying kind of person, he would be in tears right now. But he's not, so he won't. Instead, he'll vent the best way he knows how with me. Physical contact.
Because of my mentor's hard-to-deal nature and introverted personality, and my quasi-good ability to read him, I know just by how his hands move on my body how he's feeling, and just the slightest tremble of his breath on my neck tells me what he wants to say but can't. So rather than push him away and protest against his lewd conduct, I wrap my arms around his neck and let him do what he wants, let him reclaim the body he lost that night, let him heal the wounds he could do nothing to prevent.
And in hopes that he'll understand, I whisper to him the one thing that helped me move on when I was at my lowest point as a child, weeping over the loss of my parents.
"Forgiving yourself is always harder than forgiving someone else. Apologize to you first, then once you accept your apology, you can try saying sorry to someone else."
The words are meant just as much for me as they are for Usagi, who goes still for a moment before his affectionate kisses on my collarbone return, and the air suddenly doesn't feel so stiff anymore. I settle into the seat as comfortably as I can, ready to let this man help us both heal from my physical torment and the pain of the truth.
That's my story, and what a strange story it's been.
End Of Stories - to be continued in epilogue
AN: A lot of the reviews I got seemed pretty angry that Misaki didn't go to Akihiko with his problems in the first place, and I completely understand. But I tried to make it as clear in here as I could that I feel it's not something Misaki would do. He doesn't like to inconvenience people with his problems, and the issues he was dealt with would've made things very difficult for Akihiko (in Misaki's eyes), so he opted to stay silent. Yes, in truth Misaki should've gone to Akihiko about it, and Akihiko could've easily dealt with Sakurabi, but Misaki didn't know that. He doesn't know all of Akihiko's tricks and how much power and influence he has in his own industry. At least, that's how I interpret it.
Even if everything I said is untrue, IT DROVE THE FANFICTION SO THERE! If everything were written as easily as the reviews said it should be, would that have made the story more interesting? Methinks not, my friends.
"Misaki Takahashi, I'm Ikuko Sakurabi. You're a whore. Stop sleeping with Akihiko Usami or I'll have to choke a bitch."
"Hold on, lemme get my boyfriend."
"S'up, Misaki?"
"Usagi, dis bitch be trippin'."
"Dis bitch?"
"Dis bitch."
"Hold my jacket."
ONE HOUR LATER...
"Hey, Misaki, I've got a new resource company. Also, Sakurabi is in jail."
"Bawlin'!"
THE END.
See what I mean?
Stay tuned for epilogue chapter.
