『Nakamura Hina 』
What would her reaction be when one moment she was visiting a coffee shop and the next, the entirety of Tokyo had disappeared?
Hina was minding her business with her little brother within a cute coffee shop that she had found onlin...
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As Hina slowly regained consciousness, her head pounded with a dull ache, and the sensation of rough fabric brushed against her face. She tried opening her eyes but was met with impenetrable darkness. A bag over my head? She thought, irritated. Really?
She froze, listening. There were voices around her, muffled but distinct, their tone shifting as they noticed her stirring. The air was heavy, thick with the scent of sweat and smoke, and the chatter died down as she moved, testing the restraints around her wrists and ankles.
"Take it off her," a deep voice commanded, the authority in it unmistakable.
Within moments, the bag was ripped from her head, and blinding sunlight flooded her vision. Hina squinted against the brightness, blinking rapidly to adjust. As her sight cleared, she found herself in a large, open room—devoid of any furniture except for the chair she was tied to—and surrounded by a group of strangers. Her eyes darted from face to face, assessing her situation.
Directly in front of her was a woman dressed entirely in black, her eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. Beside her stood familiar faces: Ann, Chishiya with his detached smirk, the army man from the previous game, the man with piercings—Niragi, she now knew—and a handful of others, including a man wearing glasses and a swimsuit. There were a few more scattered individuals who looked like they'd been handpicked from various walks of life, all staring at her as if she were the evening's entertainment.
Hina shifted slightly in her chair, her mind already calculating how to free herself. "Let me out of these ropes or I'll—"
"You'll what?" Niragi interrupted, stepping forward with a mocking grin. "You don't have any weapons, and you're the one tied to a chair. Not much power there, huh?" He crouched next to her, his tongue darting out to lick the side of her face, his breath hot and rancid against her skin.
Without thinking, Hina jerked her leg up, her knee slamming into Niragi's groin with brutal accuracy. He doubled over in pain, clutching himself, his face twisted into a mask of rage. "You bitch," he snarled, drawing his gun and aiming it at her chest. His finger hovered over the trigger, but Hina didn't flinch. Her eyes locked onto his with a steady, unblinking gaze that only fueled his anger further.
Amused, Chishiya raised an eyebrow, watching the scene unfold with detached interest. It wasn't often someone had the guts to face down Niragi, let alone tied to a chair.
"Niragi, that's enough," a voice called out, exasperation lacing their words.
Niragi's snarl deepened, but he reluctantly lowered his gun. "Ah, come on, Hatter," he growled, glaring at the man who had entered the room. The man in question was dressed just as bizarrely as the others—sunglasses, longish hair, and a pair of swimming trunks. There was an air of command about him, a twisted charisma that seemed to hold the room's attention.
"We have the answers you're looking for," Hatter said, his tone smooth and practiced, as if he'd given this speech a hundred times before.
Hina scoffed. "I didn't ask for answers. Your creepy little cult dragged me here against my will." She glared up at him, taking in the surreal scene—these people dressed in swimwear, lounging as if they were at a resort. It all felt absurd.
