Fits Like Ass On Bucket || Rindou x Reader

5 • americano

Alone. You're alone once again. But not the way you were back then. You're alone in a literal sense. Alone on the streets of Tokyo, in the middle of the night with a short dress on. You were out. The Haitani's invited you to have some drinks to which you happily agreed to. Ran and Rindou were members of a big gang and had loads of money on their bank, ready to spoil you as you were their closest, and probably only, friend. But when the two left with some chick's by their side you had left the bar in order to prevent anybody from seeing you cry.

You liked Rindou for a while. He was nice and always treated you with such respect and care. It's almost shameful to say how fast you got attached to him, and how bad it hurts every time you couldn't be by his side. Side effects of not having had enough attention and care growing up is the cause you figured.

You didn't like being alone, especially at night. Not only were you scared of potentially getting molested or murdered but also getting kidnapped or robbed.

You always went home with the Haitani's. Both men agreed to always drive or send you home in order to prevent anything from happening to you. So when you were left alone at the bar earlier this night you started cursing the men in your mind, hoping to give them and earful in the morning. And as you were speed-walking through the streets, tightly holding your jacket closed, you began to mumble the curses instead of thinking them.

But speed walking wasn't fast enough to get home save as you were grabbed and dragged inside of an alley. Kicking and thrashing around did nothing as the person was not only much stronger but also taller and bigger. Tears stream down your face as you think of all the times you could have asked the Haitani's to teach you some combat skills. Even some self defense moves would have been somewhat helpful in this situation.

You were thrown onto the ground and before you could scream the nozzle of a gun was pressed onto your forehead. Now you sit in silence as a man with white hair looks at you with wide, crazed, purple eyes.

A familiar feeling creeps up your back and you start to tremble. "Please don't-" you don't get to finish your pleas as the man presses the gun harder onto your skin. You shut up immediately, wishing to have stayed at the bar for longer. Maybe Ran and Rindou would have come back to take you home.

"Kakuchou, are you sure that's her?" The white haired man asks his accomplice. You see a black haired man step behind the white haired one, immediately noticing the scar on his face. "I'm sure, Izana." He speaks calmly. "She's the one that hangs around the Haitani's all the time." He almost looks guilty the way he looks at you and as you two make eye contact he averts his eyes.

"Good. Wouldn't want a pest like her to distract them from their work."

You don't even need to think much before reality dawns on you. You were about to die again. Murdered like the last time, just by a different guy with different motives. You shake and cry as you start to beg for your life again.

"Please, not again, spare me. I beg you."

But your pleas go unheard as the guy, Izana, ignored them completely. It's the other one, Kakuchou, that perks up at your words. Again? Had that slipped out accidentally? Either way it didn't matter, as Izana was already moving his finger over to the trigger. "Wait Izana-"

• ~ ~ ~ •

Gasping you sit up. And then you start to hyperventilate. You look around but nothing you see looks familiar to you. The big windows in front of you are covered making it hard to look around, the blanket over you restricts your movement and the air is hard to breathe. You shake and cry before panicked sobs start making themselves heard.

You thrash around to get the hot blanket off before tumbling to the floor, crawling away from the couch towards the windows. You sob onto the floor and the memories of your last future make you release terrible sounds of fear. It hurts. Hurts to know you failed again. It hurts to be in love with someone that isn't interested. It hurts how you can still feel the metal of the gun pressed to your skin.