Nagisa POV
I wake up to the sting of ice against my skin and a throbbing pain shooting from the back of my head to my temples, traveling down to a duller aching against my throat.
The ground beneath me is cold and wet and I open my eyes to a blaring white light.
"Oh Nagisa dear, are you awake? We wouldn't want you to be late to school now would we?"
I start to panic, blinded by the sudden light and the sound of my mother's voice. Moreover, I'm going to be late? How long was I out? I should still have 1 more day of suspension.
"Oh wait! You don't have school do you?"
I sigh in relief as my vision starts to adjust. I try to move but start to take notice of the zip ties on my hands and feet, binding my hands behind my back.
I start to examine the room I'm in only to find it's not a room at all. I'm trapped in the small closet we kept our cleaning supplies in. My mother stands at the door, bright light spilling out from behind her.
"You've been a bad, bad girl. Your suspension may not be up until tomorrow, but that doesn't mean we can't learn some valuable lessons."
Only now do I notice her malicious grin. There's a maniacal malice in her eyes when my eyes meet hers she seems proud, not of me, never of me, but of herself.
She leans down, pulling me up by my hair until my eyes meet hers.
"Lesson 1- good girls listen to their mothers"
She slams me against the wall, pinning me there holding a kitchen knife to my throat.
"Now be a good little girl and listen very carefully."
The knife inches closer and I feel the blade against my skin.
"Mommy is very disappointed with the way you've been acting lately."
The knife is slowly inching into my skin and I feel my blood rising to the surface.
"I'm only going to say this once. I brought you into this life and if you disobey me I'll make sure you live just long enough to regret it. Tomorrow you go back to class but today you will sit and think about what you've done. You are to stay in this room and wait for me to return. Do not attempt to escape. Do not try to call for help. You already know it will end poorly for you"
For a second I really think she's going to do it. I almost want her to do it, to just get it over with and kill me already, but she doesn't. Instead, she drops both me and the knife, kicking me while I'm down before turning to walk away.
"Mommy has to go to work now, but she'll be with you as soon as she can ok!"
And just like that she's gone and I'm left alone in the dark, cramped closet. Normally I would panic, but my head is still pounding and I'm so, so tired. Instead, I just let myself drift to sleep.
—
Karma pov:
It's Tuesday morning and I make my way up the mountain in the light of the breaking dawn. It's still dark, but the tranquil morning air stings life back into my lungs and the birds help distract me from the never-ending nightmare that is the life of one nagisa shiota. Sometimes I wonder how much easier life would be if I didn't spend every waking moment thinking about him, worrying about his safety, his well-being... but then I think of how peaceful he looked when he was in my arms and how safe I felt wrapped in his. I think about an entire childhood spent together and all the trouble we got into. Maybe things would be easier, but I wouldn't trade this for the world. He's worth it. That being said, his home situation really sucks and I wish there was more I could do to change it. That bitch probably has him locked away in some room with no food or water just slowly starving him to death. He didn't really eat when he was with me either. How long can he live like this? How long until his body just gives out on him? Things are escalating. The longer they go on the worse it gets. Even if she's not the one starving him she's clearly not doing him any favors.
I'm so much better for him than she'll ever be but she's the one that gets to have him and that's not fair. I want so desperately to save him from her, to get him out of there, but anything I could do would just make things worse. I hate this. I hate that I can't see him. That he could die at any moment and I wouldn't know until the next morning when he doesn't show up to school. I hate that he was still injured when he left. I hate that every little thing I've done to protect him, everything I've done to help him, to save him, has been undone by that abusive asshole. I hate that he's life's favorite punching bag. It's not fair. Why does it have to be him? Why does it always have to be him?
