Prisoner || Ran Haitani X Reader

001 - Rewrite

You woke up in an unfamiliar room, a stiff leather band around your neck.

Ow... Where am I?

Your first priority was stretching your body, especially your neck - it fucking hurt. the leather dug into your skin each time you moved it, no matter how small the movement was. You hated it. You reached to grab at it - oh wait! both your hands and feet were bound by coarse ropes.

Next, you surveyed your surroundings. You saw plaster walls and hardwood floor, and light streamed in through a window nearby. The place was shabbily furnished, with only a low wooden table and a tattered sofa. On the table were bottles of alcohol and small little pouches of who knew what. You tried moving closer to get a good look, and that's when you realised: there was a pole in the middle of the room, secured to both the floor and ceiling. Your collar was connected to a chain that was padlocked to it.

What the hell is this place?

Judging by the colour of the light and how warm it was, you guessed it was late morning. Your mind was overflowing with questions, but the one that nagged you the most was: What had happened? Why were you here?

It was like someone flicked a switch inside your head, because almost immediately, the memories flooded back into your mind...

...

11 hours ago...

You stood  on the railing, muscles tense and breath hitched. "Come on! Jump!" you mentally chided yourself. Today, you'd lived your fullest, and now you were bidding your goodbye to the world. You'd blown all your money on expensive food and amusement parks, and you'd even tried a cigarette; it was lucky that the store you'd bought them from was used to selling to delinquents, so you had no problem purchasing them. However, you'd lit one, decided they were horrible, then thrown the whole pack away.

Life was super fun when you had  money but no responsibilities, you'd discovered. Life was fun when you were in your own little world, unafraid of what the world thought about you. Life was fun when the only human interaction you needed to do was small courtesies while purchasing items from shops. Life was fun when... when...

When you were free.

But you, you weren't free. Soon, you'd be given to your relatives - people who leered and scorned at you, people who looked at your body like they were picturing you naked in their mind. They all resented your mom for eloping, and had spat at her when your dad died and she was forced to come back and beg for money to raise you. 

After your mother had been found guilty of  embezzlement, theft and fraud, you'd been given a new name: the Criminal's Daughter. Your classmates never called you by your name anymore - it was always "Oi Criminal!" this and "Criminal's Daughter!" that. You'd gone from being a regular, happy student with average grades to being a dishonourable person's child, and no one liked dishonourable people.

Jump! Just jump! You thought ferociously, willing yourself to look up at the sky so you wouldn't see the distance to the ground.

Here we go. You decided. 3... 2... 1...

"Committing suicide, are we?"

Your whole body jolted violently, and you nearly fell off of the railing. Strong hands reached up and grabbed your torso, helping you regain your balance. They pulled you down to stand on the landing, and you whipped around to see who had caused all this.

The man was tall, short lilac hair cropped at the sides and slicked back. He dressed elegantly, wearing a pinstriped purple suit tailored to his body. The front of his neck bore a tattoo that looked vaguely familiar, and his smile was unbothered, lazy even.

"Well?" the man prompted, cocking his head as his smile grew into a grin.

What did this stranger want? What the fuck did he think he was doing, looking so happy although he knew you were gonna die a moment ago? Your mind raced with questions, but you only bleakly nodded.

"Let me guess... Something bad happened at school?" the man's voice was deep and pleasant, and the more he spoke, the more unsettling he seemed. 

"Poor baby." he cooed mockingly. "Teenagers, I swear. Always resorting to suicide when their classmates are a little mean to them"

"Who the fuck are you?" you demanded. Who did this man think he was, interrupting your suicide attempt and mocking you. You wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off of his face, but everything about him was just too.. unnerving. 

"Ooh, I bet your boyfriend broke up with you."  the stranger continued, ignoring your question. "Throwing your life away because of a boy isn't good, you know. How about you give your life to one? A.k.a. me, even. I'll take you."

While giving you time to process his words, he took out a small handkerchief and clear plastic bottle from his inner blazer pocket. He unscrewed the bottle and used to contents to thoroughly douse the fabric. 

Too late, you realised what was happening. The man roughly grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you close, clamping the handkerchief over your mouth and nose.

"Ha! I knew keeping propofol in my pocket was handy. Eat shit, Sanzu." you guessed the man was talking to himself, because you didn't have a clue what he was saying. He seemed distracted, but he maintained an iron grip on you.

You struggled for freedom: you tried stomping on his foot, elbowing him, scratching at him with your nails, everything you could think of. His hand moved from the back of your neck to wrap around your whole body, pinning your arms down at your side,

"Relax." he murmured into your ear. "You'll be fine."

Gradually, the strength left your body and you felt yourself weaken on the man's arm. Your vision grew blurred, then faded to black altogether.