Abnormal scenes

A tale fortune tells

As she walked back from the court of justice, still shaken up with puffy and red eyes, she was pulled aside by a tall man in a black leather jacket. He smelled of smoke and metal, she noted.

Before she could say anything, the man started to speak: "Listen, this is about your father." She gave him a confused look. "To put it simply, he owes me money. Quite a lot of money." She may have been young, but she wasn't dumb. She had heard horror stories about this kind of thing. "I want my money back, and you're the only person able to pay it," he spoke. "Pay me ¥800.000 a month. You'll be done in 8 years. Stay consistent, and we won't have a problem, I don't want to hit a kid."

She stood there for a while, staring at his grim face, not sure if she was allowed to leave. "Go," he sighed. As soon as the words left his mouth, she ran. She ran until her legs ached and she was out of breath. As she arrived home, Mitsuki had the urge to collapse on her bed, break down and cry, but she couldn't. She rushed to her father's room, to the safe hidden in a cabinet. He told her the code, "for emergencies," he said. Her hands were shaking as she tried to remember the code. Her ragged breath was followed by frantic typing of multiple 4 number combinations.

Finally, she heard a soft clicking noise and the safe opened. She sighed in relief and took out a thin notebook containing various passwords. Mitsuki stood up and turned to the bedside table where her father's wallet laid and grabbed it.

She left the house, not running anymore, but still rushing. She didn't know why. She was barely in a hurry, but she felt that if she stopped moving now, she may never be again. She was walking through the city, looking for an ATM. She had watched her father use one before.

When she found one, she could barely stick the card in. She read each instruction carefully and withdrew all the money left on the account.

For a while, the money was enough. She paid a few months' worth of debt, and the food still left in the house lasted about 2 weeks. But of course, the money didn't last forever. And who would give a little girl a job? In addition, an abnormal?

She didn't want to, but truly, what other choice did she have? She repeated that phrase in her head over and over again as she grabbed the purse of a fancy looking woman that was left out of sight just for a few seconds.

She repeated the phrase as she was chased by the shop security because someone spotted her.

And she repeated it as she sat in the police station, staring at her feet that dangled just over the floor.

"I won't be pressing charges," said the slightly coarse voice that ripped Mitsuki out of her trance. The woman continued to speak: "In fact, I'll let her keep the purse since she seems to need it so much." A sliver of hope flashed before Mitsuki, her eyes lightning up.

"Under one condition," the woman continued, "let me slap her, just once. As compensation." Mitsuki eyed the woman in horror at her words. No one has ever laid a hand on her in such a way. But the purse seemed worth a lot, including the wallet that must be inside, and she needed each yen she could get at the moment.

"Do you agree?" The woman was now turned to her. Mitsuki nodded silently. She hadn't said a single word since she's arrived here, and she intended to keep it that way. Both her and the woman stood up, now in the middle of a small room inside the police department. A young officer tried to intervene but was stopped by her superior, who watched in amazement.

To Michiko was clear what was about to come. She had obviously stolen from a stereotype, so this was very slight punishment compared to what could have happened to her.

But no amount of steady breathing and whispering comforting words could have prepared her for a back hand to the face. Mitsuki could feel the womans diamond ring hit her jaw in a way that was sure to bruise. She felt like her vision faded for a moment, her head snapping to the right faster than she could comprehend.

Mitsuki fell to the ground with a strong metallic taste in her mouth and a stinging pain on her cheek. The next thing she knew, she was coughing blood and a tooth onto the previously clean white floor. She heard the voice one last time: "Sell it." Followed by a door opening and closing, but it all was drowned out as Mitsuki tried to focus on keeping her tears in, eyes already burning and vision blurring.

The girls gaze seemed almost captivated, with her eyes darted on the floor, as a few napkins landed in front of her, some immediately soaking up the mess of blood and spit. "Wipe it clean," a male voice said. So she did, and as the blood tainted the floor red in stripes, she could feel boiling tears run down her cheeks. It hurt much more than she imagined.