The Razor's Edge [[Feitan x Reader]]

27: The Prisoner

   TW: Mentions of rape

   Machi's POV

   Shizuku didn't want to get out of bed that morning.

   "Five more minutes," she begged as the alarm went off.

   I wanted to tell her 'no,' to say that she needed to get up and get ready for the mission, but her hair was sticking up a hundred different ways and she looked at me with the most bewildered expression she could muster. She was too cute. How could I say no?

   So, I stroked her hair and kissed her forehead and told her she could sleep in just a little longer. Of course, I fully expected to have to come back up and drag her out of bed in a half hour or so. I think that loving her was making me soft.

   Oh well.

   I got dressed and went downstairs to the main lobby. Most of the others were already there. I found Shal and started discussing the route we'd be taking for our mission. We needed to cover as much ground as possible to find the boss, so we'd likely have to partner up and spread out. As we were looking at a map, planning our course, a sense of trouble washed over me.

   I looked up to find Feitan standing in the entryway, scanning the room. Even from across the lobby, I could see the frantic look in his eyes. For once, he didn't bother to mask it. Something was very wrong.

   I called his name, but he didn't seem to hear me, so I abandoned Shal and crossed over to him.

   "Feitan? Is something the matter?"

   "Y/n not here," he answered.

   "Yeah, she must still be asleep."

   "No," he said. "Not in her room either."

  "She's not?" I was starting to understand his worry. "Well, she's gotta be here somewhere. I mean, did you check the kitchen? Maybe she's making breakfast or—"

   "No," his expression was grim. "Know what happened to her."

   "Well, what is it?" I asked as despair settled in my gut, remembering the man that y/n had warned us about.

   "He found her."

*****

  y/n's POV

   Dawn was just starting to chase away the darkness as I regained consciousness.

   I woke up in a bed—not my own—wearing a silk dress—also not my own. I tried not to let myself think about how I got into it, but I couldn't help how dirty I suddenly felt.

   I tried to take in my surroundings, but realized that most light was being blocked by the room's heavy curtains. I got out of bed to open them and was met with barred windows.

   Nice. Classic Akira.

   From the still-growing dawn light that now pooled in, I could just barely make things out enough to gather that this was a different room than the one that I'd been kept in before. I turned back to the window and, looking at the grounds below, realized that this was also a different house.

   Great.

   The only commonality between the two seemed to be Akira's baroque-inspired decorating. Though I suppose it could have been genuine baroque instead of baroque-inspired, since he came from such old money. Still, the sight of it conjured negative memories.

   I turned as the doors opened, expecting to see him walking into the room, but it was a small woman with mousy features. She looked to be only a few years younger than I was.