Chagrin Confessions

Chapter Ten: Enter The Dragon

                    ▪ Unknown POV ▪

Tokyo, Azabu District.

They tell me she’s been missing for five hours. I had eight men monitoring her, and she still managed to go missing.

That’s eight fingers missing too.

And they offered.

I still haven’t decided whether to accept their offer to cut off their fingers, or just go for their heads.

The traditions set by our ancestors allow forgiveness in the act of yubitsume, or “finger cutting”, for anyone who fucks up. I currently have eight fuck ups, which need to be dealt with. How can eight retards lose one simple woman?

My Katana needs one head to be severed to calm me down.

I’ve been standing by the window for thirty minutes since I got here. Watching the silent road, as the calm wind rustles the cherry blossom trees in the eerie street, while a car passes by every twenty minutes or so. Few people are walking up and down the spine-chilling street in quick and quiet movements. It’s nearly dark and, even though this is the best upscale neighbourhood in all of Tokyo, it is never a good idea to walk alone in a quiet street. Other than the fact that it’s unnerving, you can never know what demon is hiding in the shadows.

Or watching from the windows above.

Hearing several footsteps enter the living room, along with the shuffling sounds of one, they come to a stop once they are a few meters away from me. Whimpering sounds fill the sinister stillness of the room. Closing the velvet drapes, I turn around to face the eight retards in tailored suits and stationary bowing postures.

In front of them is the whimpering mess of the head maid, bowing low on her knees, and her head is visibly shaking as she faces the wooden parquet.

“Kanojo wa doko?” I sneer bitterly towards the blubbering fool on the ground. (Where is she?)

She snivels disgustingly, and my face scrunches up in revulsion. Eight fingers, one head.

“Kan-, Kan-,” she stutters in sobs. My patience at this moment is running as thin as a Katana tip.

“Hanasu, omae baka!” I growl icily, narrowing my eyes loathing her inability to form a proper sentence. This is who I pay to maintain my house? She should be paying me to keep a roof over her dim-witted head.

“Kan-, Kanojo wa koko ni inai.” She replies, in a low trembling voice filled with sniffles. (She isn’t here)

No shit. I have no time for this retard's nonsense.

“Watashi gab aka da to omou?” I snarl, moving towards her slowly, “Kanojo wa doko?” (Do you think I am a fool? Where is she?)

“Kanojo wa kanojo ga kōen ni iku to iimashita.” (She said that she will go to the park.)

The sounds of the whimpers come to a sudden halt, as her head rolls off to the wooden floor, and my Katana drips with her filthy blood. It only took mere seconds, and I can already feel my blood simmering down. I wipe off the sharp blade with my silk handkerchief and place it back in the holder by my side. It's this fool's fault that she didn't notify me immediately instead of waiting hours to do so.

So the warugaki lied, managed to ditch eight bodyguards and disappear. And no one notified me till thirty minutes ago. I’m definitely going to need a new set of staff after I’m done disciplining these incompetent lowlifes. (Brat)