Prisoner || Ran Haitani X Reader

001

She woke up with a dog collar around her neck in an unfamiliar room.

Where am I?

Looking around, she saw concrete walls and a hardwood floor. Daylight was streaming in through a window on her left. It was late morning, and she was in an apartment, by the looks of it. There was no furniture except a low wooden table. On the table the were a few empty pouches of who knows what and a bottle of half-finished vodka. The room was dimly lit by an old lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Her collar was connected to a chain hanging from a pole behind her that reached from floor to ceiling. No way of escaping then.

With a jolt, The previous nights memories came flooding back. She was standing on the railing of the fire escape of a building that looked out to the Shibuya Crossing, planning to jump. Trying to not have second thoughts. She had spent the last few hours spending all her money on luxuries she normally wouldn't be allowed, mostly foods, but she had also tried a cigarette. It was lucky that the convenience store she went to usually served delinquents, so they didn't think much about selling cigs to a high schooler wearing her uniform. They weren't any good though. They made her choke and the threw away the packet after having just one. Then she ate until she felt sick at an expensive buffet. Life was actually pretty fun when you only had money and no responsibilities, the discovered.

When all her money ran out, she headed for a building she thought would be suitable. it was an old and battered brothel, one her uncle often frequented. She climbed the fire escape until she reached a decent height. Then she stood on the railing.

Just one jump...

One jump and it'll all be over...

Then she would never have to go live with her  relatives. Then it wouldn't matter if her family hated her or her classmates called her a criminals daughter.

Why couldn't she jump?

Just be brave and jump already! She chided herself.

3...2...

"Committing suicide, are we?"

Startled, y/n nearly fell of the railing but managed to regain her balance. When she craned her neck to see the speaker, she saw a man in a violet pinstriped suit looking at her. He was tall, his short lilac hair was slicked back. He had a tattoo on the front of his neck that seemed vaguely familiar and wore a lazy smile on his face.

"Well?" He prompted.

Unsure of how to react, y/n just nodded.

"Teenagers these days... Always resorting to suicide." The mans voice was deep and pleasant. "Let me guess... Something happened at school?"

"Who the fuck are you?" y/n demanded.

"Oohh, I bet your boyfriend broke up with you" the mans tone was cocky, a grin on his face, "well, I don't have a problem with screwing teenagers. Instead of committing suicide, why not just give your life to me?"

He took a handkerchief out of his suit pocket along with a bottle that he unscrewed. He doused the handkerchief with the contents of the bottle thoroughly. Too late, y/n realised what was happening.

He reached up, one hand clamping the handkerchief over her mouth and nose, the other hand looping around her waist to ensure she didn't fall.

Everything went black.