Tainted (A soukoku fanfic)

Chapter 11

Her eyes widened, flying around the establishment as if one of her customers could enlighten her. Surely, this crazy Japanese man couldn't be telling the truth. Chuuya's chest heaved as panic filled. What if she didn't believe him? He looked around, glancing over his shoulder at a spattering of patrons. They gawked as if he was an escaped animal from the zoo. He did indeed look very much like one at the moment; red locks disheveled, pale eyes wide and hunted. An odd sight to behold in a rural town. His gaze travelled further, taking in the details of the little café. It would've been homely with its orange colour scheme and over saturation of marine figurines and posters, but to Chuuya's eyes it felt hostile. It was as if at any moment, the squids would come alive and suck his face out for disrupting a leisurely lunch. He'd poured his heart out to a stranger and all she could do was stare.

"Could I borrow your phone?" his voice wavered; a warning of an oncoming storm of tears. Being so close to freedom made him jittery. The older woman nodded hesitantly, clearly not quite understanding the reason for his distress. Chuuya spied the phone behind the counter and snagged it, leaning over a plate of bagels and muffins. His hands shook, apprehension tickled his spine. Fingers hovered over the emergency call buttons, but he couldn't dial the emergency number. He needed to hear another voice first. He pressed the number he knew by heart and tears finally burst forth as the call connected. It felt like it rang on and on for an eternity, and his apprehension grew with each beeping noise as Kouyou failed to answer. Please, pick up. Please, I need to hear your voice.

"Please, Ane-san," his fingers drummed on the flat surface of the counter. He watched the woman scowl and disappear into the back of the restaurant, reappearing with an elderly chef. Both of them wore light blue uniforms with white pinafores, and the same 'what the hell' expression. Chuuya fidgeted, waiting for the phone to connect. His time was running out. Kouyou's voice reached from the other side of the line, and he gasped, "Kouyou it's me—"

"Hi," her pre-recorded voice said cheerfully, "you've reached Ozaki Kouyou. I'm sadly unable to get to the phone, but you know the drill. Leave your details, and I'll get back to you. Or, if it's life and death, please contact my little brother, Chuuya, and he'll help out. His number: 045-XXX-XXXX. Bye!" Beep.

"What..?" his voice clotted with emotion. Something painfully snapped in Chuuya's chest. He hadn't heard his sister's voice in so long. Hearing it robbed his fight, and he shrunk into the tame little boy he'd been before going to Yokohama, before Dazai, before he knew what he was capable of. Chuuya crumbled, sobbing. Kouyou's voice resonated around his heart, vibrating with longing. Why wasn't she picking up? Was she asleep, or just busy? So many questions and he wouldn't get answers from a machine.

Sniffing back tears, he warbled, "Kouyou, it's me. I'm—I'm alive. I was sold to a man named Dazai," he paused in thought for an instant, be before rushing, "I... I don't know his last name. But I'm not hurt and I'm on my way home. If you get this message, I'll be at the police station, hopefully working things out." He sucked in a deep breath, willing himself to calm. He wanted to tell her so much: how he changed, what he lived through, but he would never be able to tell her what Dazai did, as he'd never be able to hide the sick, messed up desire in his voice. She'd instantly know the dark haired man turned him on, even if he rigorously denied it. Urgency itched; he had to get off the phone, time tick-tocked away. He could break down and find himself again once he was home. "Ane-san, if—if I don't get home, promise me you'll find a man named Dazai in a small region near Yokohama. He has a big house, staff. Tell the police. I love you." Tears streamed anew as he terminated the call, and instantly dialed another number.
The chef, covered in smears of sauce and flour, yanked the phone out of the redhead's grip, before he could call. "Hey!" Chuuya glared. The other man shook his head, anger blazing, "You're spreading lies. I do not believe—," His brown eyes shot past him. The door slammed open, bell clanging with warning. Chuuya spun in terror. Oh, shit.