songs about toxic people

Ch 2: You both know your priorities

The screaming pierces through what little soundproofing the thin walls of this abandoned hideout could offer and cuts straight to your head. You instinctively rub your temple, a small frown now forming on your face. You sigh privately as you flip through the papers you were signing, only to turn the previous page back to make sure you did not miss anything. Manjiro, who is lying down perpendicular to your seated form on the sofa right across, catches this momentary lapse in your focus. He stretches one arm sideways to hand you his half-eaten dorayaki, his gesture of offering a stick of cigarette or some sort, you suppose.

"I'm good, thank you." You manage a tiny smile, because the noise will not be enough to break your concentration (he knows this). But still, there goes the screaming again. Rindou had promised you no torture because it wouldn't be necessary, he said, and not here where you can hear it. The guys know how much you hate the sound of screaming and though you never spoke of it out loud, they make sure to honor this whenever possible, making sure you aren't around when it needs to be dragged on, or otherwise cutting it short when totally unavoidable.

You tap your pen on the clipboard once, twice, before you finally stand and quietly excuse yourself from your Boss.

The door slides open with a creak and all four men turn their heads. Rindou raises both hands up in a placating manner upon seeing you—"As promised; no torture"—and he's right: Ran has both hands in his pockets; Koko has managed to spot a clean portion on the wall to lean his back against; and, save for the small vial of drug that he holds with a square handkerchief on his hand, Sanzu is the same as how you've seen him just moments ago—no trace of blood on his immaculately white button-down shirt, none of that sick glint behind his eyes that you know he gets upon the sight blood. You raise an exquisite eyebrow as you stand by the door, your arms folded across your chest.

The woman tied to the operating table has succumbed to violent, quiet sobbing with her mouth now covered in duct tape. It doesn't take long for you to figure out the gist of what they were trying to do—your gaze traveling from the vial that Sanzu's holding to the way the woman's head is bent as far back as her neck can allow to one side, away from any prying hands—and you appreciate the poor attempt at keeping her quiet even though you know it's just a temporary truce. All they need to do is stuff the green liquid down her throat somehow; though they definitely weren't expecting her to put up this much of a fight.

"It'll be quick and easy, doll, I promise." You can hear the edge in Sanzu's saccharine voice as he tries to steady the woman's head. "I just need you to hold still...very still, just for five seconds, yeah?"

Before he can fully unwrap the duct tape however, he pauses and sighs harshly. "I can already feel her screaming again," he says, replacing the tape and eyeing the drug between his fingers. "If she knocks the rest away we'll have to get a new one."

"Why don't you put her to sleep first?" Koko supplies lazily from where he's at. Sanzu seems to think this through, and you can't tell whether he's debating on the feasibility of this or he's mentally running through his on-hand supply of sleeping drugs.

"Nah, roofies are gonna mess with the drug and will probably cancel out its effects. Goop is highly likely only going to make her throw up, possibly even after she's ingested this one. Valium—" he narrows his eyes, "—I actually have no idea, but I don't wanna risk it."

"So you need her as unharmed or untouched as possible," you suddenly say, now crossing the room to where they're all standing. "Same thing you did to that Mr. Sokolov?"

"Yup, same thing." He grins. Mr. Sokolov was found dead about a month ago in his upscale central Shibuya penthouse, faced down on his kitchen floor in a pool of his own blood, all seemingly from his nose. No sign of trauma, no physical wound, no trace of any suspicious substance in his system, just as the Green Drug had promised. In the wake of his sudden, mysterious death, his growing empire has all but crumbled to dust caught by the inexperienced hands of his pampered sons and a handful of corporate vultures.

Your eyes never leave the woman's face and Sanzu has to wonder what you're thinking so hard for.

"How long for the drug to take effect?"

"Give or take five minutes for a full takeover, but in less than a minute the body starts to shut down."

"Five minutes to instant death?"

He blinks. "Well, not really. The body bleeds out; no idea for how long, but I guess you're already dead if you don't drink the cure less than a minute in."

"The cure." You now turn to him completely. "You sure you have it with you? Now?"

Sanzu shifts his weight to his other leg to fully look at you; if he was unsure where your questions were gearing towards, well now he's certain. He takes another clear vial out of his pocket. "I got you."

You eye him, and then the antidote—make sure it's real—before you pluck the Green Drug from his fingers with your lithe, delicate ones, your other hand cradling his wrist.

The woman, still visibly shaken, doesn't turn her head back even as you stand right beside her. She flinches when your cold, cold fingers make contact with her forehead, but she doesn't drive you away as you smooth the now sweat-soaked tangles of messy hair out of her face. Slowly, you peel the tape off her mouth and, already anticipating the incoming screaming, you quietly shush her. Maybe she wasn't expecting the softness of your voice, because for one, long moment, all she does is stare back. She can't be that much older than you, and you realize you're not too keen on finding out what she did, who she is, or what her unfortunate position in society is for her to end up on this operating table.

In one smooth arc of your neck, you empty the vial in your mouth, before bending down to connect your lips with hers. This effectively stuns the woman, just as you've planned, and by the time she decides to react, it is too late. You cup the crown of her head to keep her in place as you shift your head for a better angle. You hear one of the brothers whistle right behind you, at the same moment you feel yourself being lifted to an upright position. You blink once and now there's Sanzu's face right in front you, slightly bending down, one hand pressed at the base of your skull, the other holding the antidote. His twin scars are twitched upright but you don't miss the slight crease now forming between his eyes.

"That's good enough, miss French-kisser. Now drink; we don't want you dead." And so you do. The antidote's effect is just as instant, but he still lets you grip his arm in case you need support.

You hear one of the Haitani's say something inaudible, and you follow Sanzu's gaze as you both look at the woman's now limp form, her neck gradually pooling with blood from her nose, her eyes opened and devoid of life. Koko is now standing beside Ran, and in the quiet of it all, he says: "Well, that was hot."

There is some soft chuckling now from both Ran and Rindou. Beside you, Sanzu checks your face for any other sign of the poison. You catch the amused glint in his eyes. "Great job, Vice President," he says, and you let him steady your jaw as he wipes the fresh blood trickling down your nose with his thumb.