Catch the Thunder

Shelter From the Storm

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of child and spousal abuse. Be warned.

After the meal, Freed drove them to what looked like some small apartments. He pulled into a visitor parking spot, and almost immediately there was a heavy-set woman with bushy black hair and a crocodile-tooth necklace standing by the car with a glare that could kill. However, Freed stepped out of the car and gave her a polite nod.

"We're here to see the Matron about a donation."

"And who are you?" she demanded.

"Freed Justine, son of Liberty Justine of the Free Women Now organization. We've supported this facility since its founding."

She glared as she looked at him up and down. "I know Liberty Justine. All right, I guess it's okay."

Freed again tipped his head. "Your diligence against male visitors is understandable."

"And who's he?" She leered at the blond stepping out of the car.

"My partner, Laxus Dreyar. It'll be him making the donation today."

"Gotcha! The name's Risley Law," she said, now smiling, her tough demeanor instantly jovial. "Welcome to the Mermaid Heel Shelter."

The pudgy woman led them inside. Laxus glanced around silently. It really did look like normal apartments, shielded on the outside with brick walls and rose bushes, a single secured door leading to a corridor, which led to a central courtyard. All of the apartments opened inward to this court, where there was a swimming pool, a small playground, and a shaded spot with a barbecue and benches for picnics. The apartments went up two floors, and women stood on porches watching children run around the courtyard. Children stopped to watch them, mothers whispered together, and the court fell quieter at the arrival of the newcomers.

"The Matron is through here to the next building," Risley informed them.

They followed a brick path through the miniature park and through another corridor on the other side. This one opened to an annexed building, five stories tall, more clinical in appearance. They entered, and Laxus realized this was not a place to live, but a business building. He even saw a sign pointing people to a medical clinic.

Risley brought them to an elevator that took them to the top floor. They continued to follow her to an office at the end of the corridor. She knocked and pushed the door open.

"Miss Kagura, the son of the Justine family is here to make a personal donation."

A stern-faced woman stepped forward, Japanese with long black hair tied with a white ribbon, a crisp white suit with a red necktie, and a perpetual glare to her dark eyes. She walked up to Freed, but instead of shaking his hand, she bowed formally. Freed bowed back, obviously trained to greet someone this way.

"Kagura Mikazuchi. I was not informed of your intentions."

"It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. My partner here has come into some funds and wishes to donate to your charity."

Kagura looked from Freed to Laxus, then back again. She eyed Freed up and down with harshness in her gaze.

"Shall I show you around?" she offered.

"If you are too busy—"

"I want to show what your donation will support," she insisted. "I feel that's important to our patrons. The issue of domestic violence is too often hidden from society. It shouldn't be! It has visible consequences, so it should be visible and treated with utmost seriousness."