DELIRIA - YANDERE!CHUUYA NAKAHARA

Twenty two: Capture.

"Come to base," Chuuya says over the phone, his voice sticky with static. You press it against your shoulder and ear, hands in your pockets as you strolled around the streets of Yokohama. "I have a new bottle of wine open."

"I'll be there in thirty mins," You answer. Before he had time to protest, you hang up on him.

When you were fourteen, you thought a lot about killing yourself—it's an occasional thought nowadays, but back then it was a vocation. Like so many other fourteen year old girls, you were told that your problems were minor, your tragedies imaginary like possible psychosis, and worst of all—you were told you hadn't really lived enough to really want to die.

Then where was the virtue to your suffering, where was the acknowledgement that you had come out the other side victorious? Did your abuse mean nothing to others? Did they not know how you fought tooth and nail just to survive before the family annihilation?

Then again, no one in Japan cared about you enough; they were focused on the why. The elusive why. The ever-so escaping why. And the answer was carved on the inside of your cheek, where you had bitten for years on end just to endure the suffering.

You sigh. You stroll through the streets of Yokohama with sunglasses on, barely counting as a disguise. You were lucky it was a Monday morning at 3:00 PM; most people were at work at this time. The sun is at its zenith, shining strong rays of gold down on the pavement. You traipse through the shades like a serpent, smoothly coming out onto the sunshine once more like the spinning faces of a zoetrope. You hum a light tune, soaking in the sun.

Something catches in the corner of your eye. You turn to look at it, and spotting something strange, you make your way down the alleyway. Something was making a rustling noise. Pausing to light a cigarette, you look towards the trash can. Maybe it was a cat, a dog, a rat, or even a homeless person, scavenging through the tinkling trash. Regardless, you walk towards it, curious if this was another psychotic episode or just an animal, begging for scraps.

"Caught ya!" A foreign voice pops up behind you. You barely have time to turn around before they're onto you. One tries to press a rag against your nose. You quickly trigger your ability. It pauses time. You elbow his face hard enough to break his nose down to the skull, before grabbing him by the arm and rolling him over your back, falling to the ground with a THUD.

"It's no good!" Time resumes. "Quick!"

You feel a sting to your neck. Your hand snaps towards it and you pull it out: a syringe?

Had they used a tranquiliser dart on you like some sort of bear? You grit your teeth and fight back the incoming sleepiness, but ultimately you fall to your knees and watch them as they lecherously grin over your figure.

"Caught ya. Finally," One says as you lose consciousness. "We can have our revenge."

All that's left of you is the still scorching cigarette and the sunglasses, mangled on the pavement.

—

"Has anyone seen (first name)?" Chuuya asks one of his subordinates. They all look at each other before shaking their heads. He sighs, pouring you a glass of wine before tapping his fingers against the table. "She was supposed to be here half an hour ago."

"Should we send a search party out?" One subordinate asks, eagerly to be of help. Chuuya opens his mouth before one smashes his door open, his face one of panic.

"Quick, Executive Chuuya, Boss is calling for a meeting," He says. Chuuya stands up, dusting his coat off.

"Why? For what?" He asks, carelessly. He had waited for thirty minutes for you to arrive and yet you had abandoned him. Probably for another cigarette brea—