"Please stop," a man pitifully whined into the darkness. His wrists chaffed horribly, the metal cord bit into his slippery, raw skin. How long had he been in this chair? He hadn't a clue. All he knew was that he was fucked.
He was so fucked. So fucked.
He never should have done it.
"I'm innocent," He cried out, knowing it was useless, but trying anyways, his voice harsh and raspy from screaming and lack of proper water.
He hadn't eaten in a while, his stomach knotting in pain, his throat bubbling from the acid reflux. His water intake only coming to him through the wet rag placed in his mouth when the water was splashed over his head.
This was miserable. This was absolute hell in the Discipline Division under the watchful eye of Toman's Sanzu Haruchiyo.
A photo, that's all the detective wanted. A photo of the boss's new boyfriend and Tanaka's services would be rewarded with 300,000¥.
300,000¥ for a single photo? Of course he'd do it. He'd even do it twice.
He pulled against the wire restraints, his lip warbling, but unable to cry any longer. The skin around his eyes were raw and stung, the skin still swollen from the beating the Haitani brothers had given him.
Thinking back, taking such a photo was a monumental challenge in and of itself, for the boss never allowed those who weren't the top brass of Toman, or his sister, to even enter his penthouse apartment now a days. And then there was the added fact that 'the boyfriend' themselves never went out in public.
He was completely cloistered and it caused rumors. Was the boss holding him against his will? Was the guy a homebody? A freaky neet? Whatever it was, people were interested all the same.
His very presence was protected and treasured as if the guy was Saint Edward's Crown. Not even Tanaka knew what the boss's boyfriend looked like, and he was in the middle wrung of the upper grunts in Toman, and all he knew were the rumors of them having dark hair and an eyepatch. There was even a rumor that the man may have saved the boss' sister, though that was just speculation amongst those at the bottom of Toman's hierarchy.
Tanaka was reluctantly impressed, yet curious, what kind of guy was 'the boyfriend' to be an individual able to sway the most powerful man in all of Tokyo? They must be someone exceptionally formidable.
After a few months of careful planning and surveillance, sleepless nights and countless moments of severe anxiety, Tanaka finally got a chance to take the photo. Mikey was going to be out for a week and there was a perfect perch a building over. It was lower, but it could see into the wall of windows...
He got the photo. It wasn't the best, being from such a distance, but it was good enough that the detective even gave him a tip... However, the detective wanted more – more photos, more information. The increased payment of 80,000¥ for such dangerous work was a nice incentive but gathering the information – taking the photos – all seemed far too easy.
And it was. That perch was a trap.
He had sat at that perch days ago, the day of and two days after Mikey and Draken left for the Philippines. He had felt strange, like he had been watched, but he couldn't turn around, no matter how much he had wanted too. This was going to be the only time he could do this since he was far to scared to try this while Mikey was in the country...
He should have listened to his gut.
He sat terrified and exhausted for so long. Hungry, cold and completely blind.
YOU ARE READING
Agoraphobia
Roman d'amour"Takemitchy is all mine... and anyone who gets in my way--" Mikey's eyes were far too intense, "Well, they'd wish they hadn't." "Manjirou?" Takemichi called from the couch and Mikey turned, face serene. Mikey was both in love and obsessed and Takemi...
