smitten | rindou haitani × reader

Prologue

"rules are meant to be broken, just as promises are."

Not like you chose a life like this, this life chose you. That was what you had been telling yourself since you got your first ever downfall, the first time you realised the unfortunates and darkest reality of the world you were living in.

Running through the dark alleyways, a group of men came chasing after you, giving no mind ang feeling no fear you pressed your boots harder against the concrete street, giving them the exact pressure you needed for the high jump that you were planning. As you felt your body in the air for a moment you positioned your right arm for the coming land of your body toward the car that was blocking your way, using it as your laverage to get passed through the annoying blockage.

The sounds of heels clashing against the surface of the road were the only sounds that echoing throughout the area, you had lost the chasers, and that was the only thing that mattered for you. Swinging your hand as soon as you reached the empty high way, a cab immediately attended you - to your surprise.

Nonetheless, without a word you slid yourself inside, finally you were able to catch your breath that had been ghosting you from time to time as you were running away from those group of goons.

Leaning against the backrest of the seat, your hand flew on your chest, softly pressing the bleeding wound that you got earlier. It was supposed to be painful, but not something you could not take, you just wanted for the blood to stop staining and soaking your black top.

The car started to accelerate and your eyes fell at the way it was heading, massaging your temples with a heavenward roll of eyes, "This asshole," you muttered.

Pulling your black buckle skirt up, the driver threw you a confused look, amazement wrapped around his face as his eyes caught the pistol gun that was tightly kept in your thigh holster just right above your leg harness, in a quick motion you pulled it up and directly aimed at the back of his head.

The man stepped on the brakes, taking a immediate stop in an abandoned port, lamp posts were barely doing their job - blinking as requests for replacements.

"You dare to fool me huh?" a grimace spread across your face, brow raising higher than the other one, your hand reached to get a hold of his whole face.

"You bitch," the man in gritted teeth stated with a spit, which made the corner of your lips to rose - that was gross, screamed your mind.

Your fingers scratched the end of the rubber face mask that he was wearing, it looked realistic but not enough to convinced you that this so-called driver was actually just a normal stranger.

"I am a bitch indeed, you filthy governor," you husked finally peeling the rubber off his face, revealing a wrinkled face of a middle-aged man, "Do you actually thought that I was harmless?" with scoff you asked.

"What do you want?" his breathe fell shaky, and you could only laugh at his question as you shifted your body from behind him onto the passenger seat without taking the gun off at him.

There was nothing more satisfying for you in this world than to see those screaming plea in any man's eyes, the way their expression and aura transitioned from superior into the lowest level in just a blink of an eye, they were always too tough yet too weak - seemed unwavering, but easily waver.

"Nothing much, really," you shut your eyes for a moment, free hand gripping your chest harness for a breather, you had been wearing it for an hour now, and it was giving such a pressure on your wound.

"I already got what I need inside your resthouse here in Nagasaki," fear crossed through his eyes, probably realising how bad his situation could be either he survive or not tonight.