Rough Hands - A T.ShigarakixReader Story

Relative.

You hadn't really managed to get much sleep at all. Whenever your eyes had dropped shut long enough to lull you into a false belief that you might be able to pass out, be able to escape your own brain, and the intense pain your bones, joints and muscles were in thanks to the already present pain and the cold not helping whatsoever, a harsh shudder would rack through you and cause you to wake straight back up again.
When you had finally managed to slip into unconsciousness, you weren't really sure whether it was because you were actually asleep, or whether your body had just begun to shut down thanks to the extreme cold you'd found yourself in.
It hadn't felt like it had lasted very long, your sleep feeling like a particularly long blink, only to be brought back around by a foot nudging your body. It wasn't a particularly harsh feeling compared to the kick you'd gotten the night before, but it wasn't exactly a welcome feeling either, especially when you were running off barely any sleep, and in extreme discomfort as well as being icy cold, like some kind of corpse.

With a groan that leaves you before you can control it, you try turning your head to face whoever it was that had shaken you awake with a deep frown, but find the coldness has locked your body up, the only thing your muscles are willing to do being shivering, shuddering and your jaw chattering.
A hand appears on your shoulder, and you're moved swiftly so you're on your back, facing the ceiling, a muscular man much like the rest of Kenji's henchmen looking down at you, goosebumps littering his own skin as he does so. You shudder hard again as he pulls a radio out of his back pocket, raising it to his face and pressing down a button that causes a loud beep to echo around the empty room before his gravelly voice travels around the room instead.
"She's frozen, Boss. Can't even move." He says simply, looking down at you indifferently, no hint of empathy or pity in his eyes. Just sheer emptiness.
"That's the point, Nakamura." Kenji's voice replies, echoing around the room. "We need to keep her sluggish."
You want to snatch the damn radio out of his hands, you want to throw it at his head and try to escape despite your body refusing to play ball, but all you can do is lie there trembling pathetically, and scowl at the henchman named Nakamura.

"She's more than sluggish, Boss." Nakamura responds, and your frown deepens even more when you pick up on the sass he just displayed towards Kenji. "She's blue. She can't even speak. What use is that to you?"
There's another beep as he ends the sentence, and hangs the hand holding the radio loosely over his knee as he crouches beside you, his face still unbothered as he looks down at you. It almost felt familiar after a while as he stared wordlessly at you, his eyes cold despite the darker colour to them. It was almost like looking at a dark-eyed version of Dabi's stare, you realise.
"...Bring her here." Kenji replies, finally. Nakamura rolls his eyes before slipping the radio back into his pocket.
"Alright, princess. I'm gonna have to lift you up. Try anything funny and you'll wish you hadn't." He says simply. You make your disgust at the term 'princess' known, scrunching your face up in disgust at him, only to be stared blankly at in return.
"You gonna fight?" He asks, making no effort to pick you up yet.
"P-P-Probably." You stutter out through chattering teeth. "Y-you f-fucks."

The venom you tried to implant in your voice doesn't really travel through very well, the stuttering stopping you from sounding very threatening at all, and all you receive in return is a thoughtful hum before you're launched over his shoulder effortlessly, one of his arms clamping your legs tight to his body so you can't kick out at him.
"F-fucker." You repeat, trying to squirm your upper body unsuccessfully.
He remains silent as he carries you out of the freezing cold room, your body weight not even phasing him as he carries you up some stairs into the light again, your eyes unable to adjust to it as quickly as you were being exposed to it, making you have to close your eyes.
Arrays of female voices saying hello to Nakamura, some more flirty than others, make your eyes slowly open, attempting to crane your neck to try to catch the eyes of someone that may be able to help you. All your life, women had been trustworthy, kind, safe, you were sure that someone, anyone would come and help you as long as you made your discomfort clear.

It's a strain, but you manage to make eye contact with someone, your pink eyes looking straight into dull, blue ones, the woman's face oddly blank, before she gives you a soft smile.
"Is she new, Nakamura?" She asks, bowing politely as he passes. "She's pretty."
"H-Help me." You all but whisper, wishing you could reach out for her.
"Ignore her." Nakamura replies coldly, shuffling you over his shoulder slightly, but the movement is rough enough to make your hips complain.
You try to keep your desperate eyes on the woman, who just looks at you almost pitifully as you pass before returning to the room behind her, your eyes drift away from the back of her head, only to realise that she was wearing a thin, almost see through kimono, making you completely aware of the lacy underwear she was wearing underneath it.
Your breath hitches slightly, your mind taking you back to where you were raised, and also out of fear of whether or not you'd become one of them, like they originally tried to bargain in your first run in with them. You try wiggling again, your body becoming a bit more compliant than it was in the basement room, but his grip around your legs is unforgiving and immovable, rendering your attempts to kick him useless.

"Cut it out." He orders, shifting you again, a loud crack coming from your hips as he does so, making him pause for a second, as if in fear that it was an injury, before carrying straight on carrying you through the corridor, you becoming resigned, your body aching in ways you hadn't experienced in years, and feeling extremely disheartened by the idea of being born into a place like this, only to potentially end up dying in a similar establishment. After everything Mom had done to make sure you'd never end up in a place like this again.
Nakamura halts, and there's the sound of a door clicking open before he begins walking again, a lot slower this time.
"Boss." He greets, a little lazily as he shifts you again, your body complaining yet again, the cracks of your joints actually sending a shooting pain down your legs this time, making your lips tighten in reaction.
"Put her by the fire." Comes the response from Kenji, not that you could see him.
You remain still as Nakamura lowers you gently to the floor after a few steps, the heat coming from the fire immediately warming your skin, the feeling almost tingling you in comparison to the cold that held you so tightly in it's embrace.

You sit stiff and upright by the fire, your tired eyes landing on the flickering flames and quickly becoming unwilling to look away from them, the sight of the dancing flames and the heat that you so desperately needed almost makes you immediately sleepy.
The sound of Kenji speaking draws you away from the trance you'd found yourself in, quickly remembering that you needed to keep your wits about you the best you can while in his presence, especially now your body had been rendered even more useless than it already was while being handcuffed.
Your eyes narrow the second you look away from the flames to find Nakamura covering you with a thick, weighted blanket that felt not too dissimilar from Tomuras body weight being added onto your own. Kenji stands behind him, smirking down at you even as Nakamura stands and turns to leave.
"F-fuck off s-staring at me like that, y-you c-creep." You try to spit, your tongue still as sluggish as the rest of your body even beside the fire and now under a heavy blanket.

Kenji tuts disapprovingly and almost mockingly as he lowers himself to a crouch beside you.
"Still got that attitude problem after last night huh? I thought a little isolation might help clear the mind."
You continue to just glare at him instead of giving a verbal response.
"I shouldn't really be surprised considering who you ended up in a little gang with." Kenji muses, his hand finding its way to your hair and giving it a ruffle again, immediately winding you up with how child-like it made you feel. How looked down upon. "You were such a lovely, polite little girl."
"Giv-Give it a rest." You try to scoff. "Y-you don't know me."
"I don't?" Kenji questions, cocking his head, a slow, twisted grin taking over his face. "Then how do I know about the little scar on your back from healing a bird?"
You squint at him slightly. You definitely hadn't told anyone in the League about that one. Not even Tomura. No-one knew about that apart from you. In fact, the only person within the League that would even know about that scar was Tomura, and you were more than aware of the fact that even if he did want to sell you out, or get rid of you, he'd do it himself, not pass you onto someone he himself wanted to kill.

"What about this?" Kenji asks, leaning back ever so slightly. "How'd I know that you love to read? Or at least used to. Your nose was always buried in a book. You'd hide yourself away to read."
Your jaw clenches slightly. "Lucky g-guess."
"Really now?" Kenji chuckles, the sound getting dangerously close to dancing on your last nerve, not that you could do anything with your muscles damaged from the cold and hidden under the weight of the blanket that had been casually thrown over you.
Ducking his head closer to you, but far enough away that you'd have to move a lot quicker than you could to bite him, his grin grows wider.
"Bet you I could tell you how Mommy dearest died." He promises, his voice portraying the clear giddiness of the information he had given him.
"Shut up." You hiss, the stuttering leaving you in those two words.
"It was a little messy wasn't it?" He replies. "The guys were new, so I guess they didn't know how to do things cleanly. Professionally. Heard she put up a bit of a fight too."
"Shut up." You warn again, your blood beginning to boil underneath your skin.

Kenji just smirks straight down at you, and you bite your bottom lip angrily, wishing there was some way to swing your handcuffed wrists straight into his nose, your brain unable to move away from the want to hear the tell-tale sound of the clicking of a broken nose from him instead of all the information he seemed to know about you and your past.
"I've gotta say. I'm a little offended you don't remember me, dear little Y/N." Kenji croons mockingly, the grin dropping into a genuine look of offence as he tilts his head more towards the scarred side as he looks at you. "After everything I did for you."
"What are you even talking about?" You ask, exasperated. Your tiredness, anger, confusion and pain fogging your brain.
"All those books. Never hurting you even though there were a few times I wanted so desperately to do what your mother would never commit to doing in actually disciplining you when it came to questioning me. I even made it so no-one died near you." He sighs. "And you don't even recognise me."

You squint again, your brain beginning to do mental gymnastics as you work through fog to try and piece together all the pieces of information you'd been given in the time you'd been stuck in this place with him.And then it happens. It clicks. And as your face falls with the realisation, all the dreams of the faceless, suited man suddenly being recollected with Kenji's face instead, scar and all, his twists upwards into a smile again."That's right, Y/N." He grins, giving you a patronising tap on the nose. "I'm your father. And you, my darling girl, are going to make my business so, so much better."