Aizawa: The Early Years

Chpt 3

Hana moves swiftly through the shadows of the city, her footsteps clicking as she weaves through the narrow alleys. The night wraps around her like a cloak, her mind focused on getting back to her apartment. Her heart still races from the encounter, but she keeps her pace steady, her senses alert for any sign of pursuit.

As she hesitantly turns a corner, she feels a shift in the air, a subtle, almost imperceptible disturbance. Instinctively, she slows, slipping into the deeper shadows. Her breath quickens, but she remains still, listening intently.

Without warning, a strong hand clamps down on her shoulder, spinning her around. She finds herself face to face with the man from the symposium, his expression dark and resolute. His eyes lock onto hers with a mixture of frustration and something else—something she can't quite place.

Before she can react, he deftly binds her wrists with a soft, strong cord, his movements precise and practiced. He doesn't need to say a word; the intensity in his gaze says it all.

"Thought you could slip away, did you?" he murmurs, his voice low and laced with a hint of irony. The warmth of his breath tickles her ear as he leans in close, his tone both teasing and menacing.

Hana struggles slightly against the bindings, but the cords are unyielding. She hisses in annoyance.

He chuckles softly, the sound echoing in the dark alley. "You're quite the elusive one, Meridian. But now that I have you, we might as well make the most of it."

His fingers brush lightly against her bound wrists, sending a shiver up her spine. His proximity is unsettling yet oddly thrilling. "You're not exactly making this easy, you know. What's your game here?"

She meets his gaze, her eyes flashing with defiant curiosity. "If you think you're going to get answers out of me this way, you might be disappointed."

He tilts his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I don't know about that. Sometimes, a little pressure can reveal more than you'd expect."

He moves closer, the warmth of his body almost overwhelming. The night feels suffocatingly close as his gaze roams over her, the darkness adding an edge to the charged atmosphere.

Hana's mind races, trying to devise a plan while grappling with the intensity of their confrontation. She knows she has to stay sharp, even as the seductive danger of the situation pulls at her resolve.

"Well," she says with a hint of a smile, "I suppose we'll find out just how much pressure I can take."

She shifts her hands in their restraints, trying to brush her fingers against his flesh. Before she can make contact, he tightens his grip on her bindings, cinching her wrists together even tighter and keeping his own hands safely away from hers. Hana goes to glare up at him but instead of the dark gaze she was beginning to become accustomed to, a fluorescent glow of red meets her own.

All fight leaves her body as the blood rushes from her face, her stomach bottoming out.

"No," she whispers, horror flooding her senses as she is enraptured by the scarlet burn of his eyes, framed by floating wisps of shadow.

He tightens his grip on her wrists once more, his eyes narrowing slightly but never closing. "Now, why don't you start by telling me who you're really working for?"

"No," she repeats, letting her locked legs finally give in and falling to her knees onto the asphalt, giving him no choice but to follow while holding her bindings.

"No, this can't be happening." She's muttering to herself, but he continues waiting, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"What can't be happening?"